Mock Trial
by Overseerneversleeps
Summary: The Doctor and Sarah Jane accedently land in puritan America and become embroidered in a deadly game of cat and mouse with a nearly invincible foe. Worse yet, all is not as it seems in the near by sleepy village, as the seemingly docile inhabitants turn on the Time Lord and his friend, revealing dark secrets that should never be unearthed. Part three of "The Twelfth Hour" series
1. The Americas

_(Welcome to Mock Trial. This story is part three of my Twelfth Hour series. As the next full entry, it is recommended, though not required that you read the first two instalments, as this one will reference those and some of the plotlines there in. I hope this one is enjoyable for you, though it does start slow. I would like to thank feline38 for her help with some of the... stranger plotlines, and MiricatBlackwood for beta reading. Get ready for puritan America ladies and gents, the Who way)_

A cold fog reached out of the trees, as if to grip any who dared to enter the dark marsh. The further one traveled, the deeper the fetid water became, slowly engulfing the feet in its murky, muddy wetness. A miasma lingered over this place. Great evil had been done here. Dark things had been wrought. The remnants of such things lingered, draining all emotions from the air and drowning them in decay.

Slowly, the Time Lord known as The Doctor trudged through the ankle deep water. An older man, his spiny grey hair was matted with sweat and water, and his ancient blue eyes squinted in pain with each step. His wizened face not but a grimace; one part determination and two parts vehemence.

He looked down at himself. His waistcoat and grey plaid pants were splattered with gooey mud; permanently stained beyond all doubt. He sighed at the sight of himself, though it was the least of his worries.

Chained upon his back was a massive block of uncut wood. Chopped roughly from the center of an oak tree, his arms looped around it, his hands gripping the top, tied there. He struggled beneath its weight; at very least one hundred pounds, but probably more. Each step sent ripples of pain down his spine, and the weight made his feet sink all the deeper into the mire.

He snorted derisively at his situation. A weight to equal his mortal sins, they told him, a punishment befitting a servant of darkness. He had stopped to help them and this was the thanks he got. Try to do the right thing...

The man ahead of him glanced back. Wearing the vestments of a holy man, he carried a crucifix in one hand, and a lantern in the other. The reverend only smirked, and turned his back. The Doctor sneered. When he got out of this, and he had faith he would, that man would pay.

He stumbled beneath the weight, electric pain shooting through his vertebrae. He didn't fall however, shifting the weight on his back. He managed to stay on his feet half out of spite. The Scotsman didn't want to give him the satisfaction. He felt his boots fill uncomfortably with water, making him tense with disgust.

"I'm going to get out of this," he shouted to the man ahead, his brogue echoing through the marsh, "I hope you know that." He knew he was in no position to taunt but it made him feel better for some reason. Humanity was starting to rub off on him.

"God has ordained this, my son. There is no escape from perdition," the reverend replied stoically

"We'll see about that. I'll find a way. Then I'll find Sarah Jane," he replied.

"Allow me to guess, then you will seek your vengeance and end my life?" his enemy asked sarcastically.

"You won't be that lucky, trust me," The Doctor growled. He would get out of this, and when he did, there would be hell to pay.

* * *

**Three Days Earlier**

The silence that blanketed the landscape was broken by an alien whine, grinding rhythmically through the forest. At first there was nothing, but slowly, a rectangular shape began to appear. Winking in and out, the blue police box took shape, landing with a thud on the grassy ground. It was not long before the door creaked open, and a woman emerged.

Though middle aged, with a sweet face marked with wrinkles and brown hair that had begun to grey, she wore an adventurous smile of a woman half her age. Her clothes were subtle, a dark jacket buttoned in the middle and a pair of slacks. It could be considered formal and casual; intentionally so. Sarah Jane Smith never quite knew where she would be day to day, not while traveling with her old friend, The Doctor.

"Doctor!" she shouted worriedly into the TARDIS, cracking the police box's blue door a bit more, "I don't think this is right!"

"What do you mean it's not right?" The Time Lord's Scottish accent huffed from inside, "I programmed it..." As the older man walked out of the door, he looked around bewildered. His ancient eyes scanned the surrounding woods as he spun around twice, and then looked at his friend.

"Your right, this isn't right," he muttered. Oak and maple trees surrounded them, stretching in every direction. A mist settled upon the woods, blanketing it in silence like the grave. A light dirt trail led off to the west; he took note of the hoof prints in the soggy dirt. Definitely not the space port on Caramimus like he had wanted.

"What happened?" Sarah Jane asked, surprised that they were in the wrong place. He was an excellent navigator after all. He couldn't blame her for being shocked.

"I don't know... poor girl must have gotten it wrong," he whispered. He didn't want to hurt the TARDIS' feelings after all. He gave his ship a reassuring pat with his wrinkled hand, "don't worry sweetheart, I'm sure you'll get it next time."

"Do you know where we are then? Looks a bit like Earth," Sarah walked forward, and then turned around, a big grin on her face. He always liked that adventurous streak she had. Perhaps that was why they had been friends for most of their lives.

He looked around more, then up into the daytime sky.

"Yes... definitely Earth, around noon..." he moved to a tree, wrapping on it three times with his knuckles. "Sounds like springtime..." he nodded. He knelt down, rubbing his hand on the mossy dirt. He watched his old friend recoil as he licked his palm. It was a bit tangy... "seventeen hundred, Massachusetts to be exact! Well, Ms. Smith, we're in America!"

"Well, that's a change. Been awhile since we've been here!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, when was it? The Mechinoids right? In that cornfield in Ohio?" he clarified. It was hard to remember sometimes. He and Sarah Jane had done so much throughout all the years they had known one and other that it ran together at times. Only recently had they been traveling extensively together again. He was more than happy with the results.

"You mean the fake cornfield on top of the missile silo," she corrected, chuckling "you almost got that scarf of yours stuck in the automatic doors." He shook his head. Again his fashion faux pas of the past came back to haunt him.

"Probably should have just let it. Would have done the world a favor," he grumbled.

"Oh please, I liked it," she waved off, "so are we going to explore? I've always sort of wondered what puritan America was like."

"Trust me; it's not as much fun as you would think. It would be better if we just leave now," he argued. He was not a fan of this time period. People we're too quick to judge, and too harsh when they did. This wasn't far off from the Salem Witch trials after all. He didn't want to think about those.

"Oh come on, where's your sense of adventure?" she prodded with a big grin, "we'll just stop in and have a look around. No harm, no foul." Her smile was far too endearing. He sighed exhaustedly.

"All right, fine. But at the first sign of trouble we're leaving," he stipulated, "deal?"

"Deal! Come on! Let's go."

The pair began walking down the dirt trail, leaving the TARDIS behind. He still had a bad feeling about this but what could he really do? She wanted to stay. He was trying to be more open minded about what his companions wanted to do. As a self titled "control enthusiast", he felt it would be good for him to let go a bit, try and go with the flow. It wasn't working but he was trying. Not to mention his last few plans hadn't gone as well as he had hoped, specifically a trip aboard a luxury space cruiser...

He shook that out of his head. He didn't want to brood, not today. That was something Sarah Jane Smith was always so good at; opening up his head and letting him out. No one did it quite like his oldest friend.

As they walked, the trees began to thin a bit, giving way to more and more patches of mossy grass. He guessed they must have been somewhere near a swamp. The ground was too damp for them to be elsewhere.

The trail widened the further they went, rising up a steep hill. As they crested it they spotted a village down below, nestled in an idyllic, woodsy valley. A few homesteads and farms sat scattered around, with a circle of official buildings in the towns' center. All were built of wood and stone, with wooden or thatched roofs. A tall church was situated by the front gate, its prominent tower ever watching the small village. People of this time period were fervent in their beliefs. It was both a blessing and a curse in many respects. The Doctor could not decide if it was more or less of either.

Despite its nice appearance, something he could not place tugged at The Doctor. A shadow seemed to take hold of this place, for what reason he couldn't decide. Perhaps it was just his experience with Salem coloring his opinion, or maybe the bleak forest that they just exited. Perhaps it was something more. He didn't know, but he trusted his instincts. He would keep up his guard.

He felt around in his pocket for his sonic screwdriver, finding it comfortably in his shirt. His preferred tool had a variety of uses, and he tried not to go anywhere without it.

As they approached the gate, a sign greeted them.

"Wardwall," Sarah Jane read aloud, "that's an interesting name."

"Never heard of it," The Doctor grunted, "I'm sure it's because it's terribly boring. We should just turn around and leave."

"Why are you so keen to leave?" his companion asked, giving him a sideways glance, "you're never like this."

"No reason," he rebuffed.

"Come on then, just a little while more, even if I have to drag you screaming," she winked. He only shook his head.

They walked down the well traveled road into town. They were greeted by the comfortable smell of wood smoke, and the ringing for church bells. They immediately noticed a long, stone building marked the town hall, right next to the church. A blacksmiths shop sat across the way, smelling of hot coals and iron.

Townsfolk milled about, some carrying baskets of food or other goods, while more greeted each other politely. They wore somber garb; the men in black tunics and slacks with buckled shoes, the women simple dresses and a bonnet on the head. Typical puritans by all definition, no creativity whatsoever.

He saw the suspicious glances coming their way as they walked by, noting the uncomfortable looks on their faces.

"Doctor... why are they looking at us like that?" Sarah Jane whispered.

"Look at us, we look different. Puritan people had a strict code of dress. It's an affront to their morels," he looked down at himself, "plaid is apparently very offensive."

"I probably should have known that," she replied sheepishly. He shook his head. He didn't want her to feel bad. Unfortunately he was quite familiar with puritans, the good about them and the bad.

"Excuse me," a deep voice came from behind them. Both The Doctor and Sarah Jane turned around.

The man that greeted them wore the clothes of a priest. He was middle aged, likely somewhere around forty-five, old by the pitiful standards of the time. His sandy blond hair was cut short, and his most prominent feature, his nose, was sharp and straight like the beak of a hawk. His deep set eyes were confident, but something else hid in those green orbs; something The Doctor did not like. The look of a man who had stared into the abyss was unmistakable. This man had seen darkness. He did his best not to show his feelings of the man on his face, but the gut feeling took hold. He had barely opened his mouth and The Doctor already didn't like him.

"I don't believe I have seen you around here before," said the reverend before them, "so I have come to welcome you to our community. Welcome to Wardwall friend." The way "friend" came from his mouth made his skin crawl.

"We are just a pair of travelers," The Doctor replied, "just passing through on a long journey." It was technically the truth.

"You are welcome to stay here, as are all of The Lord's children. I am Father David Barman," he held out his hand. The Doctor glared at it for a second before shaking it with a fake smile.

"Doctor John Smith. This is my...er... wife, Sarah Jane Smith." Most times he would introduce her as his friend or partner or companion, but that was far too risqué for this time period. He saw her smirk at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Well... a Doctor, how fortunate. Ours is... indisposed," Barman returned. The slimy way he said the word indisposed made The Doctor's hair stand on end. He was sensing a pattern here.

"Oh we're not staying, we're just passing by," Sarah reiterated.

"Where are you from if you do not mind my intrusion? You're accent is not one I am accustomed to and you're clothing..." he left his statement hanging.

"Scotland. These are the most popular fashions there in recent months," lied the Time Lord.

"Yes to us, it's you all that look a bit odd," Sarah Jane joked with a disarming laugh. The Doctor did the same, to a stern face from the holy man.

"How did you come here? It looked as though you traveled through the marsh," he questioned.

"By ship of course." It wasn't exactly a complete lie. The TARDIS was a ship of sorts.

"Well, I must..." he began but a cacophony of shouts began to ring through the town. Sarah Jane and The Doctor turned around to see a man rushing toward them, holding onto his buckled hat as he ran.

"Someone help! Help! Someone's been murdered." He hollered.

"You said you were a Doctor?" the priest asked frantically. He inwardly kicked himself. If he wanted to leave quickly, telling someone he was a physician was not the best way to do so.

"Yes, I am. I can help, as can my... wife," he stammered, almost mixing up his lie.

"Then time is of the essence."

The man ahead led the way, winding through dirt roads to the back of a homey farmhouse. Indeed they saw a dead body, nearly covered by scraggly, low weeds.

A crowd of puritans surrounded it, all chattering in hushed tones to each other. Some offered prayers to God, while other made the sign of the cross.

The Doctor and Sarah Jane pushed their way to the front, followed closely by Father Barman.

It wasn't until he saw the state of the body The Doctor wanted to stay. He knew exactly what did this. He hadn't seen it in a long time, but he knew what it was.

"Sarah... I think we're staying a little longer than expected..." he announced, "one of the universe's most deadly killers is loose in America."


	2. Something Wicked This Way Comes

_(Author's Note: Alright Outlaw Gentleman and Shady Ladies, the big reveal. Some of you may recognize this creature from a very old episode. Though it only appeared once on television and a handfull of other times in varios Who media, I have always loved it. Bringing it into the new era was a no brainer. To those of you who have read my previous work, I'm giving you a little somethin' somethin' to think about. I know... I'm terrible)_

The Doctor stared at the body before him, and then looked back to his companion, Sarah Jane. She eyed him with a mixture of worry and fear. He did not want to scare her but she needed to understand the gravity of the situation they had just walked into.. She was never one to underestimate anything, but he did not need her to start.

"I need everyone to step back, I can't do my job with everyone breathing down my neck like this," he shouted to the crowd. He watched as they all backed up, except for the holy man. "You too father." He specified. The man did as he was told with a begrudging look. He motioned for Sarah to come, and the pair knelt before the corpse.

Butchered was the only way to describe what had happened to this man. The first thing he took notice of were the arrows sticking from his chest and abdomen. There were four of them, around a foot long and made of a heavy, silver colored metal. The accuracy was pin point; one piercing the heart, one the left lung, one kidney and one the liver. The attacker had destroyed the vital organs, one by one.

He looked down to his legs. A pair of sharp metal disks protruded from his flesh. One was lodged in the victims left thigh, while the other in his knee. As far as he could tell, it had sheared through the bone, easily. He noted another cut along his side, grazing his black tunic.

He looked up, imagining the way the man was standing before he fell, putting himself in his shoes. He glanced over to the left, seeing a third disc lodged in the wooden fence.

He counted numerous more cuts, slender in nature. They were made by a thin blade, a sword similar to a Japanese Katana. The cuts were wholly unnecessary, not with the other weapons used. However his opponent was thorough if anything. They acquired a target and killed it. They made sure whatever they hunted could not survive.

"Sarah, you have seen this before. Do you recognize these weapons?" he asked. Her eyes darted from wound to wound, then back to the Time Lord. They were filled with concern.

"Is this what I think it is?" she asked, her hand grazing the cold metal sticking from the victim. She gave him the knowing look he so often saw from her.

"Yes, it is," he nodded.

"A Raston Warrior Robot," she whispered. He confirmed it with another nod.

Raston Warrior Robots were one of the most effective killing machines ever created. It was long rumored they were created by a forgotten race that was ancient when the Time Lords were young, and infinitely more brutal. They disappeared without a trace, leaving their machines behind. Some fell under the sway of individuals seeking the perfect assassin. Others wandered the stars, killing anything it considered a threat, using an alien way of determining victims that no one could understand.

The Doctor seldom met them anymore. There did not seem to be many left, as they had been hunted into near extinction. It was quite the feather in the cap of any fledgling bounty hunter to prove they killed a Raston War Droid. Practically indestructible, they were able to function without a head, and could pull themselves back together when knocked apart. Most weapons could not penetrate their armor, and they moved so quickly they appeared to teleport. It showed true versatility to kill one. They rivaled even Dalek's in sheer brutality, and left a trail of bodies wherever they went.

And there was one here. He couldn't leave knowing it was. It wouldn't stop until everyone in this village was dead. He couldn't let that happen. He looked at Sarah Jane. Though she was afraid, he could tell she felt the same way. The pair had encountered a War Droid years ago, and she saw what it was capable of.

"Who found it? Which one of you found this body?" The Doctor demanded rapidly. The blood was fresh, and the pool was localized. No trail. He was killed here. For all he knew, the Raston Droid was here, right now, waiting to strike. He needed to figure things out, quickly.

"I did," one man replied, stepping forward. He was a fair faced man of around thirty. His eyes were deep set and rimmed in dark circles of sleep deprivation, and lines around his mouth indicated a life of hardship.

"And your name is?"

"David Portner sir," he answered.

"Good, when did you find him?" The Doctor asked.

"Not ten minutes ago. I saw him laying there and came to his aid, only to find him beyond my help. I then yelled to Thomas, who came to find you," he explained. He seemed more than sincere. However, there were many times not all things were as they seemed.

"Did you see anyone else here when you arrived? Anyone at all? I need to know." The Doctor implored. It was rare but he had heard of one or two Raston War Robots masquerading as humans. Were this the case, anyone here could be their assassin, even the man he was speaking with. Normally he would just take out his sonic screwdriver and scan the lot of them but people of this time period were touchy about technology. He did not feel like being drowned as a witch for trying to help them. He was finally getting used to his Scottishness.

"No one sir," he answered, "I searched around for the murderer but saw no one."

"Perhaps that would be because someone here committed this crime against God!" Father Barman suddenly shouted, stepping back out of the crowd. The Doctor glanced back in annoyance, seeing him staring daggers at David.

"What are you insinuating, Father?" David narrowed his eyes at the priest.

"We all know of your proclivities, David, and how weak your relationship with our Lord has become in these few months," Barman returned snidely.

"My relationship with the Lord is my own, and I keep it well. I don't need to come and listen to your fear mongering to feel close to God," he jabbed back.

"Perhaps so, but this is troubling in light of the recent accusations against your wife," Barman continued. He had a cruel grin on his face for but a second before he feigned concern. The Doctor was sure immediately he did not like him, but now it was abundantly clear that his dislike was warranted.

"Don't you dare bring Magdalena into this," David spat back, "I..."

"Why don't the both of you shut up!" The Doctor boomed, his Scottish voice causing both men to back up a step, "Especially you!" He pointed to the priest. The crowd gasped.

"This is not the work of anyone living here, so pointing the finger at each other is a waste of time," Sarah added, trying to calm the situation. The Doctor was beyond that at this point. This was far more serious than hurt feelings.

"The killer is not among those here, I can guarantee that. Pointing the finger is idiotic and dangerous," he continued, ignoring Sarah Jane's attempt at calming, "if you want to be proactive, stay inside your homes. Don't come out, don't try to help and don't get in my way. The creature targeting your town will not hesitate to rip any of you apart."

"Creature? Are you saying this is the work of a demon or spirit?" yelled a man from the crowd.

"No, but it is far from human," he admitted brashly. Sarah shot him an unsure look. He knew it could be a mistake telling them that, but if it kept them inside it was worth it. He didn't want to see more of them shredded. "Leave, stay indoors, all of you. Now."

The crowd slowly began to disperse, worried whispers and prayers filtering through them. Some lingered, including the reverend.

"You cannot come into my village and start giving orders," Barman began. The Doctor sighed.

"It's not an order," Sarah clarified, "just a suggestion."

"A strong one," he added.

"I think it is interesting you have come here no more than an hour and a demon has descended upon us. An interesting coincidence, wouldn't you say?" his deep voice replied. The Doctor looked up from the corpse, and stood slowly, turning around.

"I would be very careful if I were you. I'm trying to help you," he whispered, his gaze on the priest.

"If I were you, I would feel the same." The Doctor chuckled disingenuously.

"The rest of these mindless simpletons may fear you, but I don't. I've met hundreds of men like you. All the same, gripping their positions of power in their little hands and intimidating those beneath them into submission, all in a vain attempt to hang onto something their destined to lose." The man just eyed him, and took a step backwards.

"Stay out of my way," The Doctor finished, and turned his back, attending the body. He heard the man let out an aggravated sigh, and then shuffle away. Sarah Jane leaned in to him.

"Are you sure that was a good idea? I mean, I know how good you are at alienating the leadership but..."

"No, but he's going to make problems if we allow it. We can't afford that. The people here can't afford that." A loud clearing of a throat interrupted them.

He looked up to see David still standing there.

"Can I help you?" The Doctor asked impatiently.

"No, but I can help you. You'll need a place to stay, and Father Barman certainly isn't going to provide that. The two of you can stay with me."

"Why?" The Doctor asked. He wasn't saying no, he was just surprised by his kindness.

"He would see us all dead. You are making an attempt. It's more than he is doing. I'm happy to help you in this endeavor." The Doctor was willing to take him up on it.

* * *

Sarah Jane and The Doctor walked through the front door of David's home. The cottage was sparse but still cozy. It was obvious someone who cared for the comfort of others lived here. The wooden table was the largest piece of furniture in the room, with four chairs around it. The stone fireplace was very quaint, a source of both warmth and comfort. A single, double bed inhabited one corner, while a clothes closet another. A vase filled with withered flowers sat near the solitary window, looking lonely and forgotten in the sun.

"How very... drab," The Doctor sighed as they walked through the entry way. This drew a hard but subtle elbow from Sarah Jane.

"Nice, I meant it was nice. Best house in town I'm sure," he corrected. Why humans were so touchy about their homes he would never understand.

"Thank you sir, it is not much but it is all I have anymore," David replied.

"You did not have to do this. We both appreciate your hospitality," Sarah Jane answered.

"Please sit," David insisted, pulling out chairs for them from the table. He sat, as they did. He had that way about him like he had something to say but was nervous about it. The Doctor hated that. People should just spit it out. Finally he did.

"Despite what Father Barman will tell you, this is not the first death like this. I saw his attempt to pass the blame to you but this... monster has terrorized this village well before your arrival." The Doctor nodded. He was not surprised.

"How many similar deaths have there been?" Sarah Jane questioned.

"As far as I know, five. The first was a hunter. We found him murdered in the forest, just as savagely as this last man was. That was a season and a half ago. This, however, is the third in two weeks. I fear you are correct. This thing seeks to end us all."

"Why did no one bring up the recent deaths while we looked at the body?" Sarah asked. David shook his head.

"They believed the killer was stopped. Father Barman convinced them it was the town butcher, Peter," he replied.

"You say 'convinced them,' were you not also convinced?" The Doctor asked. The man's speech had betrayed his true belief.

"No..." he replied after a short time, "there has been a great many deaths in this town of late, and not all of them are the fault of this beast." The Doctor was getting frustrated by his cryptic speech.

"We don't have time for beating around the bush. What exactly are you getting at here?" He already had his suspicions. He knew this time period all to well. David confirmed them.

"Barman has stirred fear in our town. Since his arrival late last year, he has thrown wild accusations at every turn. He has his flock convinced that witches live among us. They believe he speaks directly to God, and would lead them to heaven. I believe he is merely murdering those who threaten his position."

A cold nausea fell into The Doctors stomach. He had hoped against his better judgment that this town was not affected by the utter stupidity of the age. It turned out his gut had been right all along.

"That was what happened to Peter, he was accused by Barman after he told him he was not doing enough to stop the deaths. He accused him of witchcraft, and said the murders were sacrifices to Satan. The towns' folk rallied behind him and convicted Peter of witchcraft." The Doctor only shook his head. More people died from idiocy...

"What did he do to him? How did he kill him?" Sarah asked. The look on her face was a mix of disgust and horror.

"The same thing he always does. He took him into the woods to be 'judged by the Lord.' No one ever returns with him." David said darkly.

"Looks like we have more problems than we thought," Sarah muttered to The Doctor, "once the War Robot is out of the way, are we going to..." she trailed.

"Do you even need to ask?" he smirked. He certainly wasn't planning to leave these people in the hands of a murderous priest. He was just as dangerous as the killer robot, he was just quieter. But first things first, they had to figure out how to get rid of the murderous robot.

"What was Barman talking about when he mentioned your wife?" Sarah Jane eventually asked. A sweet smile came to David's face, but there was a hint of sadness to it.

"Magdalena was everything to me. The sweetest woman in the world. She... was afflicted with consumption a few months ago. I stopped going to church to care for her," his speech was stuttered slightly. The Doctor could tell he was upset. Or he had sudden onset Tourette's syndrome and he was about to start swearing. Probably the former.

"He wouldn't hold that against you would he?" Sarah asked, shaking her head.

"He accuses people of witchcraft Sarah, he probably kicks little animals too," The Doctor poked.

"He did. When my wife was filled with fever she would have terrible nightmares, and she would scream and rave about metal men shooting storms from their hands. She even started drawing them in her more lucid moments. Barman... was convinced she was afflicted by a demon, one she summoned, and accused her of being a witch. She... the Lord took her before her trial."

"That's horrible. How could he?" Sarah gasped. The Doctor however was more intent on her dreams. They sounded abnormal.

"What do you mean... metal men?" The Doctor asked suspiciously.

"She was filled with fever. The nightmares were just that; nightmares."

"May I see the drawings? This could be important," The Doctor replied.

David nodded hesitantly, and then stood. He moved to the dresser in the corner, and dug around in one of the drawers, eventually pulling out a ragged sheet of paper, likely torn from a book.

"This is the only one I did not burn. It was the final one she drew," he said. He laid it on the table.

It was a crude and sloppy ink drawing of a head, but the features could be made out; a smooth face leading to hollow round eyes and short rectangular mouth. The distinctive head shape, a square with "handles" leading from temples to the top, gave it away. It was a Cyberman.

"Oh my God," Sarah Jane whispered, shaking her head. She, like the Doctor, had faced the Cybermen many times. A cyborg army bent on conquest, they saw it as their cause to "upgrade" the entire universe, turning those compatible into one of their own and annihilating anything that wasn't. The Doctor shook his head.

Something was very wrong here. No one just dreamed of Cybermen. Not someone who had never seen them before. He immediately thought back to a more recent adventure he had been on. He had run up against a stranded Ice Warrior on Earth. The Ice Warrior, Skaldak by name, had divulged his fears about his own dreams; those being about Daleks'. Dreams of Daleks' and Cybermen did not bode well. Perhaps in the past he would have ignored them as just dreams.

He was far too old for that now. He had seen far too much. The weird had become regular, and the paranormal normal. There were many patterns in the universe, some just couldn't see them. He could. This gave him a cold feeling he could not shake.

"May I keep this? This actually could be more helpful than you think," he replied to David. The puritan looked back blankly.

"I cannot fathom how but yes. All that drawing causes me is pain." he eventually waved off, "Does this have something to do with the current murders?"

"I don't think so but it could be a foreshadowing of something else..." replied the cryptic Time Lord. He shook his head. "We need to deal with our killer. I have one thing I need to ask of you."

"If it well help stop the deaths in our town, anything," David nodded. The Doctor dug around in his pocket, and held up a piece of white chalk.

"Can I use your floor?


	3. Twelve Out Of Ten

_(Author's Note: I hope this chapter is as riveting to read as it was to write. This one is dedicated to MirricatBlackwood. Thankyou for... well... everything you do)_

Sarah Jane always marveled at how The Doctor's mind worked. She imagined it was like a hamster running in a wheel inside his head, just going, going, going; not stopping, even for a second. He worked out the impossible faster than most people could even think, and he solved the unsolvable for breakfast.

They had moved the table and chairs out of the way for him to work, allowing him full access to the floor. And he obviously needed it.

Before an hour was through, the wooden floor was covered in chalk, and it had been four more when she again looked at his work. Some of it was recognizable to her; mathematic principles of astrophysics, a list of climate and nature factors of this area, and a diagram of the Raston Warrior Robot itself. Others however, she couldn't make heads or tails of. One looked to be an equation full of alien symbols, while another was a strange circular drawing showing numbers and more symbols inside. She thought she spotted a diagram of moon cycles for another world but his kneeling body was blocking part of it. Much of it looked like gibberish to her, but she knew it was important. She had been around The Doctor enough to know that he understood things she could not and had seen things she never would.

"I ask again ma'am, what is he doing? I don't," David started.

"Shhh," he was cut off sharply by The Doctor, who went back to what he was doing. After scribbling some more on the floor he looked up. "I'm working. I can't think with you talking. I need silence," he explained absently. He looked down at his work again, scribbling more.

Sarah looked sympathetically at David, shooting him a shrug. Every version of The Doctor she had met, and that was nearly all thirteen of them, got like this while trying to work out a problem. Granted, most didn't scribble on the floor but they all had their quirks. His third face would go on long walks and talk to no one in particular. His fourth would wrap his scarf around his friend and puzzle, muttering. More than one of his faces would sit atop the Tardis in quiet meditation, out in space with his ship's atmosphere extended, soaking in the silence.

"No, no, no, NO! He suddenly yelled, his Scottish voice echoing through the house. He aggressively dusted a smattering of writing away, jotting something else down. She saw David recoil, and she put her hand on his shoulder. She was used to The Doctor's outbursts by now. She understood others weren't though.

She poked David on the shoulder, and motioned with her finger for him to come. He nodded, following her outside.

They stepped out into the cool night air. A light breeze licked her skin, and the crescent moon above lit the dark with a pale glow. The stars twinkled in the dark sky, so bright and beautiful. There was no electricity clouding the air, and every star shown all the brighter.

She still smiled when she looked up at them. She always had loved them, even as a small girl, but never could have imagined a fraction of what was actually out there. She had seen so many wondrous vistas and exotic planets, met so many people. For every piece of beauty however she also experienced danger and evil lurking around every corner. Yet still, the simple pleasures of seeing the stars on her home planet, far before the younger her would see them for the first time, was breath-taking.

"Mr. Smith, he is a strange man, is he not?" David asked, breaking the silence. She nodded, and chuckled.

"You've noticed, have you? He is. I've become used to it though. It takes awhile, there is a bit of an adjustment period."

"How long have you two been wed?" he asked. She shook her head.

"He'll probably get angry for telling you this, but we're not really married. We're just friends. He just didn't want people to judge us harshly."

"I can understand," admitted David, "people in this village are not the most open minded. For people seeking a more open place to be their own selves and worship freely, they have surely created a prison of ideals and rules."

"Don't worry David, it won't always be this way," she assured.

"I'm not so sure," he worried, "some are so stuck in their ways. It seems impossible." She didn't reply. She wished that she could tell him about the future, how more accepting of others people were, but she could not meddle in that way. The Doctor always told her that foreknowledge was a dangerous thing, even for a time traveler. Someone like David... they could never find out how things changed. It was too dangerous.

"Dammnit!" Came a Scottish yell from inside, followed by a quiet "chink" against the door.

"What was..." started David.

"Just wait for it," she grinned, digging her hand into her pockets. The door cracked open, and The Doctor peeked his head through.

"Sarah, do you," she interrupted him by producing the chalk from her pocket and holding it in front of his face. He smiled and plucked it out of her hand. "That's my girl," he thanked, and shut the door. David chortled a bit.

"What can I say, we've known each other for a long time," she shrugged. She always tried to have what he needed, whatever that was.

David opened his mouth but a loud scream suddenly cut him off, ripping through the silence like a gunshot. It was high pitched; a woman's voice and it was filled with terror. The door behind her whipped open, and The Doctor leapt out.

"Our killer is up tonight," he announced. She saw him pull his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket. The chrome body shown in the moonlight, and the light up, green head would light their way.

"Let's go then!" she exclaimed. They had to get there before it was too late. She pulled out her own sonic tool, hers disguised as lipstick. She thumbed on the red light, and the pair took off. She heard David start behind them.

"David, stay here! I don't want to clean up your innards next!" The Doctor hollered. As they ran, she heard the puritan's footsteps fade. Another scream echoed through the sleepy town.

"East, it came from east!" The Doctor yelled. Their sonic tools creating halos of green and red light for them to follow, they turned toward the center of town, running as quick as their legs would carry them.

Sarah's heart pounded in her chest. There were few things she truly feared, but Raston Warrior Droids were one. She had only seen them one time, and knew what they were capable of. She watched one obliterate a whole troop of Cybermen with little effort. They were unafraid and had pinpoint accuracy with all their weapons. She was not too keen on ending up like the poor villager this morning, nor did she want to see The Doctor end up that way.

As they rounded a bend into the town square, they came upon a startling scene. A puritan woman lay on the ground, cowering in fear and her hands over her face. A wooden bucket with spilled water lay next to her, soaking her dress. Sarah Jane could hear her pleas for help and sobs as she crawled backwards.

The creature she crawled away from, at first glance, appeared to be a man. It wore a fitted white jumpsuit against its lithe body, and a featureless, smooth, metal helmet covered its face. Upon closer inspection, one would note that it had three fingers on each hand. In one hand it held a sword, long and curved like a Katana, but the metal shimmered like no Earth ore could. Its sword was raised above its head, ready to deliver a deathblow to the young woman before him.

The Doctor raised his screwdriver, and it warbled as he depressed the button. Sarah watched as the robot's sword was flung from its hand as though shot with a bullet. He had hit it with a focused magnetic pulse. Sarah kept her tool on the droid, trying to ready herself.

"Run! Get out of here, now!" The Doctor yelled to the woman. She stood quickly, throwing him a terrified glance, before rushing away. The Warrior Robot turned slowly to them.

"Target lost... new targets acquired," it's soft, computerized voice echoed.

"Explain your targeting data! Why these people? Why this village?" He demanded.

"Data acquired shows patterns of violence in these Homo-sapiens, therefore the threat must be eradicated," it answered.

"Scan me. You want a threat, a real threat? You've got one. I'm not a farmer or a pig chaser," The Doctor threatened, "I'm a Time Lord." A few seconds passed, the blank metal helmet staring at them.

"Scan completed. Biometric data indicates Time Lord physiology. DNA scan completed. Data of identity on file. Time Lord called "The Doctor". Current body not on file. Editing files now. Risk level... nine out of possible ten."

"Just a nine? What does it take to get a ten? I'm at least an eleven on a ten scale. Or a twelve. Yes twelve. That's a good number," the Time Lord rattled.

"Numerical values are irrelevant. You are the highest threat factor on this entire planet. I apologize in advance for any discomfort your death may cause," its computer voice replied. It stuck out one hand, and its blade flew too it. Sarah Jane readied herself for the fight to come.

"Doctor, do you have a plan?" She quickly asked.

"I always have a plan. I have plans inside plans. Just... not for this."

"Of course not," she replied.

Suddenly, the robot began to run, and leapt into the air vanishing before their eyes. The Doctor dove forward as it appeared behind him, its blade swinging at his head. He rolled, springing to his feet, immediately ducking beneath the next cut. Sarah Jane pointed her sonic lipstick at the Raston's weapon, and pressed her button. The sword shot from its grasp flying towards her, clattering to the ground a few feet away. She ran for it, seeking to arm herself. She reached for it.

She recoiled as a metal arrow thudded into the dirt just in front of her. She glanced up to see it pointing its hand at her. Instincts took over and she ran. A trail of metal arrows followed her, thunking into the ground and into homes, shooting passed her shoulders.

It flung out its other hand, a metal disk shooting from its fist. She stopped just short, the blade spinning just inches from her face. Another came at her and she dropped to the floor, it spinning through just where she had been.

Suddenly, The Doctor was there. In his hand he clutched a pitchfork, having grabbed it from the yard of a nearby home. With all his strength he stabbed into its back. In a shower of sparks it stumbled forward, the prongs of the tool sticking out of its chest. The Doctor ripped it out with a kick, and went for another quick jab, this time aiming for its head.

The War Droid was ready this time however. It whipped around with lightning speed, deflecting the stab aside with its forearm. Its other hand shot out, punching into The Doctor's chest. With a pained yell he was sent sprawling backwards onto the ground, pitchfork landing next to him. He skittered for it, but the Raston was there again. It threw a vicious kick, lifting him off the ground and spinning onto his back, landing hard in a pained heap.

Sarah ran for the first thing she could get her hands on. The sword was too far away; she would never make it back to The Doctor in time. Instead, and knowing how bad an idea it really was, she grabbed the next best thing.

Bucket in hand, she ran to The Doctor's aid. The Raston Warrior aimed its hand at the fallen Time Lord, ready for the death blow.

Sarah Jane had other ideas. With as much strength as she could muster, she swung the wooden bucket. With a clunk, it collided with the back of the robot's head, and it stumbled. She hit it again, then a third time.

It spun about, swinging its fist at her. She jumped backward, and its other hand came around, pointing at her. It fired its arrows mercilessly.

She used the bucket like a shield, catching the three projectiles before they hit her face. It moved to fire again, but The Doctor was on his feet. He swung his farm tool like a bat, hitting the side of its head. He followed by sweeping out its feet with the pole, knocking it to the ground.

The Doctor stumble- dodged backwards as it shot another pair of arrows aimed at his face. The Doctor recovered quickly, stabbing down at it.

But the droid was already on the move. It rolled sideways, the pitchfork stabbing only dirt, and flung itself up to its feet. Sarah Jane was ready, and hurled her bucket. It smashed into the assassin's metal helm, shattering the weakened wood apart. It was unphased, leaping sideways through the air, disappear in a blink.

Sarah whipped around, finding the robot just where she thought; a few feet from its blade. It held out its hand calling the sword to it, catching it. It chopped the air, and readied into battle stance, and leapt.

It came for The Doctor, the Time Lord being its primary target. It swung twice at him, The Doctor ducking the first strike and knocking the next aside with the forks. He stabbed at the robot's stomach in return, with it dodging backwards, and then came at the metal helmet, swinging hard at it. The War Droid blocked the strike, returning with a downward chop of its own.

The Doctor tried to block, the blow shattering the wooden tool. The Doctor was undeterred, swinging the wooden shaft first, smacking the robot across the face, and then swung the forks. He fought intellectually however, aiming not for the robot itself, but its weapon, catching the blade between the prongs and twisting violently.

The sword dropped from its hand and it kicked out its foot, hitting him in the stomach. It then spun abruptly, lashing out with its fist in a hook aimed at Sarah Jane. She backed up quickly, covering her face. Its blow clipped her hand instead. Pain tore through her fingers and knuckles and her sonic lipstick was sent flying, somewhere into the grass.

Before it could attack again, The Doctor was there. He leapt onto its back, grabbing it around its neck in a choke hold. Choking would do no good against an android, but she understood what he was trying to do. He wanted to pull it backwards.

The robot was having none of that. It grabbed his arms and bent over, shaking him off. He lost his grip and his attacker secured its own. It pulled him forward, slamming him hard on his back with a pained cry.

This was where The Doctor wanted to be; Sarah saw through his plan. He rolled over, grabbing the Raston's dropped sword. It reached down to grab him but he swung up. In a shower of yellow sparks, the hand was severed at the wrist, leaving wires dangling in its wake. The droid recoiled and The Time Lord did not waste his opportunity.

He leapt to his feet, and followed his first swing with one meant to be far more deadly. She saw his success in another shower of electricity. With a clunk, the silver head hit the ground, rolling to a stop a few feet away. The body rocked back and forth for a few seconds...

Then its good hand swung back, cracking The Doctor across the face. He stumbled back surprised, and the headless robot back-flipped away, landing in a crouch. It stuck out its stump, aiming at Sarah Jane instead, letting loose another stream of metal arrows.

She dove aside, landing hard on her stomach. From its other hand, a long blade slid from its knuckles, popping out and into its waiting palm. Identical to the first sword, the droid took fighting stance, this time without its head.

"Oh now this is a proper duel! I'll warn you, I've learned from the best from the past and future," The Doctor taunted bouncing on the balls of his feet like a man half his age, "want me to tie a hand behind my back so it's fair?" He and the Warrior droid ran at one and other.

Sarah started to stand, but something hard hit her in the chest, knocking her flat. She looked down at herself, her miniscule attacker shocking her.

The Raston's hand stood on its fingertips, and skittered up her like a spider, dragging a mass of wires behind it like a macabre tail. It leapt for her neck, grasping and gripping, trying to throttle her. She caught it by the thumb as it jumped, halting it in mid air. She was surprised at how strong it was, pushing against her with all its might while it squirmed.

It changed tactics abruptly, instead gripping her hand, squeezing like a vice. Pain tore up her arm as it crushed and she flipped over, getting onto her knees. She did the only thing she could think of, and slammed it into the ground. Over and over she smashed the hand into the dirt as hard as she could.

Finally its grip started to loosen, and she smashed it one final time, then shook her hand hard, and whipped violently to the left. It lost grip absolutely, flying off further into the square. She stood, and rushed for the bushes where her sonic lipstick had flown.

The Doctor's battle with the headless droid was fierce. She had never been one for sword fights, though The Doctor was a master. It looked as though he had met a match. Their duel was a violent battle of traps and faints. She saw The Doctor move his blade for its legs before instead sweeping high. The droid caught the blow, spinning aside and bringing the sword high as its foot swept low. The Doctor met it with a parry of his own, lifting his front foot up as he deflected the attack aside, kicking his raised boot into its stomach. It returned with a kick of its own, though it was a trap, as it ducked and punched into the Time Lord's midsection. It raised its stump simultaneously, shooting an arrow at deadly range, skimming inches from The Doctor's ear. They stopped to recover again, and then came at each other once more.

Sarah pawed her hands through the grass, searching for her lipstick. They couldn't keep this up. Not like this. They needed to regroup. They would never beat this robot on its own terms. She caught a glimpse of her tool's shine in the moon light, and yanked it from the weeds. It looked to be in one piece, and she flipped it into her hand.

She turned about, finding the robotic hand a few inches away from her, skittering aggressively. She had about had it with that thing, and hauled back her foot, giving it a swift, hard kick. It flew airborne, landing near its master.

She looked down at her tool, trying to figure out what setting to use. The sonic lipstick was a tool not a weapon. It didn't hurt or kill; which was part of why she liked it. She needed to do something however. Only one idea popped into her head.

"Whatever you do, don't use setting omicron-phi. I'm still working on it. Last time I knocked out the power for three blocks," The Doctor's voice echoed in her head. He had said that to her not long ago, when they had re-connected during the Ice Warrior ordeal. She set it to the forbidden setting. She pointed the tool at the Raston Warrior Robot, and pressed the button.

Immediately, the lipstick sounded wrong, its warble off key and sick. The red light flashed and blipped out, before glowing white hot. The tool shook and heated up; feeling like it was going to burn her hand. She nearly dropped it, but held her grip as long as she could.

There was a deafening boom, a shockwave of static erupted from her tool, blasting in all directions. She was blown off her feet, her lipstick landing somewhere else. The Doctor was knocked backwards too, his stolen sword shooting off somewhere else.

The Raston Warrior took the brunt of it. It was shot through the air, landing in an electrified heap. Sarah knew what this was; a massive EMP pulse. It damaged electronics more than people, devastating the robot.

It lay in the dirt twitching and jerking. Still, the headless droid pulled itself up, its electronics audibly whining as it moved. It bent down, scooping up its head beneath its arm, as its hand crawled up its back. It leapt into the air, disappearing.

The Doctor and Sarah Jane stood, glancing about. Her head pounded from the noise, and she looked for her lipstick. The Doctor walked to her, holding it out for her.

"You used Omicron Phi, didn't you?" he groaned.

"I didn't know what else to do," she replied. She was not in the mood to argue.

"The pulse damaged it enough to where it will retreat. It will rebuild itself and come back. We need to be ready..." the tired Time Lord replied. He stood very stiff. She could tell his fight had taken a toll. "Good job Sarah. It's a good thing this time period doesn't have electricity. If it did it would be out for weeks." She nodded. She looked all about. The doors to most of the houses were cracked open, with villagers standing in them. Some looked scared. Others were angry. None were pleased. The pair left before they got any ideas. They had certainly had enough fun for one night.


	4. Self Reflection

_(Author's note: Alright outlaw gents and shady ladies, a few things. A couple of you have asked about the Raston Warrior Robots' weapons. More specifically, it's use of a sword. In the show it did not use a sword, however in a few other DW materials, especially books, it is seen with a blade. Secondarily, I hope you guys like this alien shopkeeper I designed. He is an original creation by yours truly. Enjoy and remember, uncool is cool.)_

The Doctor and Sarah Jane stood outside the TARDIS in the dawn of the next morning. David stayed back eyeing the blue box suspiciously. The Doctor's partner could not blame him; this sort of technology was foreign indeed to a man such as him. She gave him credit however, he appeared more curiously cautious than outright afraid. She imagined some of the other villagers would be burning them at the stake by now.

"Alright, so are we clear on the plan?" he asked one more time. She rolled her eyes. He was so overly cautious sometimes.

"Yes, I will look for clues about the Raston Warrior Robot while you pick up supplies to fight it," she repeated one more time, "and I swear to God if you leave me here and don't come back..."

"I'll come back, don't worry," he waved off, "I suggest you start that way." He pointed to the west with his sonic screwdriver, "Some readings indicate residual radiation off that way, probably from the crashed ship. Meanwhile, I'll plug your lipstick into the Tardis and try and fix it up by the time I'm back." She grimaced.

The pulse from using setting omicron phi had burned out her sonic lipstick. She had tried to get it to work since then to no avail. While glad it saved their lives, she was not pleased by the prospect of having no sonic tool with her. Especially with a killer robot lurking around.

"And if, by chance, I do run into the War Droid what do I do? I can't fight it without my lipstick," she argued. Otherwise she would be more than happy investigating anything he liked. She just wanted a way to defend herself against something so deadly.

"It is likely still dormant while it repairs itself. We hurt it badly. It will take it a decent amount of time to repair itself. Or..." he grinned mischievously, "just hit it with a stick." She shook her head, crinkling her face.

"The Robot won't be the only one..."

"Alright, I'll be going. Do be careful Sarah Jane," he replied genuinely.

"You too Doctor. See you in an hour or so." She always gave him some leeway. Even though he was a time traveler he always seemed to get so distracted, somehow arriving late.

With that he climbed in his TARDIS and shut the door. It was not long before the grinding "woorp" filled the air, and the TARDIS winked in and out before disappearing all together. As always, it left silence in its wake.

She turned away from the empty road, looking at David. He stepped forward. She could see the fear on his face, but it had a hint of wonder in his eyes. She was not surprised. It appeared to be time for an explanation. Whether or not he would, or could accept it, was another matter. David spoke first, nerves in his voice.

"You two... are you witches?" Sarah Jane smiled and shook her head. It was not the first time someone had asked her that.

"No... The Doctor and I are... we're from the future," she replied. He still looked confused, so she continued. "That blue box... it can go anywhere, in the future or the past. I was born in the nineteen-hundreds David. That's why we're so different." The puritan seemed to let it sink in a bit.

"Is it magic?" he asked. She shook her head again.

"Technology, far above wagons and muskets."

"Does everyone in your time do this?" He asked. She could tell he was trying to digest it all. There was no point of reference for him so all things considered he was doing a good job.

"No. The Doctor is from even farther ahead," she explained. She did not want to get into the "alien from planet Gallifrey" explanation. Time traveler was enough of a hurdle.

"I see... I think I understand... though I doubt the others in my village would even try," he nodded.

"Come on, let's go search the forest. Maybe we can find something to help the Doctor she motioned. Otherwise she would stand here all day and try and explain future technology that even she had difficulty understanding at times. David agreed with her, and the pair started to walk.

The forest was thick, and the ground mossy. She had walked in all sorts of forests but this one seemed particularly dark. The trees loomed above overbearingly, and the further they walked, the more any semblance of a path disappeared. Overgrowth and tangles of weeds snaked along the ground, almost as if they were creeping to overtake anything that dare step into its domain. The fog did nothing to help, closing in on whoever walked inside it. The clammy air left Sarah Jane chilly.

She was not sure what they would find here. It was always a tossup when she traveled with The Doctor. He seemed convinced it was a ship, and usually his hypotheses were close to correct. Despite his nonchalant attitude, she was concerned of what they would find, or perhaps who. She did not want to run into the Warrior Robot. She was unarmed and had David.

She was more worried for him than herself. She had experience with aliens and dangers from other times. She had survived Daleks, Cybermen, Sutek, Sletheens, Ice Warriors; even more recently the Weeping Angels. He, on the other hand was a farmer. He may, were he lucky, have met an angry bear at the most or perhaps coyotes. There were some people who saw aliens or spacecraft's and could not handle it. Asylums and institutions were full of those people.

Beyond the mental aspect, he was not like Sarah or The Doctor. They were used to dealing with danger and beating the odds. More often than not, they got by on luck and by the skin of their teeth. They dodged death when others didn't. It came from experience. Experience he would never possess.

She couldn't help but think of a more recent trip she had gone on with The Doctor. They had set off aboard a futuristic space-cruise ship, hoping for a relaxing vacation. Instead, she and The Doctor were attacked by a large group of Weeping Angles. The moving statues were deadly, and a few other space farers traveled alongside her and The Doctor as they tried to escape.

All of them died. The only survivors were the duo of Time Travelers. Death was the part of traveling with The Doctor that she hated. She was used to it but she still did not enjoy it. Much of the time it was no fault of she or The Doctor; these people were caught in the evil plans of whatever malevolent forces they ran across. If anything, Sarah and The Doctor saved many more than they lost. However, it was those they lost that bothered her. She felt responsible, whether or not it was true.

She glanced back at David. A nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her he would end up that way, and it would be because of them. They were dragging him into something he had no hope of understanding. She wanted to tell him to go home. Get out of here and never come back. It was on the tip of her tongue.

Yet, she stopped herself. Something about him told her not to. Perhaps it was his kind attitude; the willingness to help just out of goodness that she saw in herself. Maybe it was his revelation about his wife's nightmares, which made him less than normal already. Maybe yet she didn't just want to walk through the creepy woods alone.

"You say you're from the future... when you said that people are not always like this... you know this for certain?" David abruptly asked. She was initially unsure whether to answer him, but at this point they were already down the proverbial rabbit hole.

"Yes... I do," she answered truthfully, "people are more open from where I come from. They're more accepting of people and who they are. There are still people who are closed minded and who judge and hate. There always will be but they don't outnumber those who don't. One day people like you and your wife won't need to be afraid. Not in most parts of the world." David nodded in return.

"That gives me some hope. It's a shame that it could not be like that now. They call themselves good people, but they treat farm animals better than their own neighbors. I will never understand that."

"Neither will I." Sarah Jane replied.

The forest ahead thinned as they walked, and before long they came to a clearing. It was obvious that it was created unnaturally.

In a long, nearly straight line, the trees were devastated. Some were ripped out of the ground, their roots a tangled mess of dirt. Others were snapped in half, splinters of wood and chunks of bark littering the violent site. The clearing stretched as far as the eye could see, leaving long divide. She knew exactly what this was.

A ship had crashed here. A big one. It looked like The Doctor was right again.

* * *

The markets on Körkmal were bustling as usual. An amalgamation of all the surrounding galaxy's, there was never a dull moment. The Doctor always loved it here. It was one of the few places one would see cultures that were mortal enemies living in peace.

The streets were cramped with foot traffic as he glided through. He passed many humans and others. He bumped into an insectoid Malmooth, uttering a quiet apology, before passing a fin-headed Graske and his Ood servant.

The shops and stalls were just as diverse. He spotted a pair of Sontarans aggressively haggling with a Monoid salesmen over the price of weapons, threatening "total obliteration" if he did not comply. Near that a pointy-eared Pelidonian discussed the repair of his Quark robot with a stoic Luminarian. All through this, a rhinocerid Joodon kept guard, ready to jump into action at the slightest hint of violence or law breaking.

Körkmal was a very special world. Many places claimed total neutrality, but this one meant it. It was a commerce planet first. All legitimate business was legal here, and all races were welcome to do it. Violations were met with absolutely lethal force. It was one of the few planets that were truly peaceful.

The Doctor did not have time to admire the pragmatism. He was on a mission. He had an idea on how to get rid of his Raston Warrior Robot. His plan was foolproof.

He continued winding his way through the streets, passing peddlers of beautiful jewelry and smelling the sweet aromas of exotic foods. Such a mix of cultures was refreshing compared to the stuffy, judgmental puritans. They would never allow something like this. Anything different was wrong and needed to be destroyed. It was not unlike the Cybermen and the Daleks. They had redeeming qualities, but there was nothing he hated more than hate itself.

He spotted what he was looking for. A small stall run by a Hekatonkheirite. These aliens were from Barjol, and appeared human at first glance. However, when one looked closer they would note three pairs of arms jutting from their backs. They had to have difficulty buying shirts...

He shook that thought out of his head. He couldn't get distracted. More important than their extra appendages, they were the kings of displacer technology. No one had mastered it as well as they had, not even the Time Lords. The Doctor liked it. In most cases, it was nonlethal.

He walked up to the stall. As he did, the six-armed alien leaned his front elbow on the counter, and grinned charmingly.

"Hey pal, what can I get you today?" he asked in a gruff voice. A pair of his back hands took out a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, while a third lit it with a lighter. A fifth took it, and reached over his shoulder, popping it in his mouth. This was perhaps the first time The Doctor was amazed by smoking.

"I have a pest I need to get rid of. I just want it gone, not dead," he replied. He looked down at the table before him. He spotted all kinds of wares; guns and rifles that teleported people, bags that sent belongings elsewhere, wallets that allowed money to be deposited direct into a bank vault, receiver arches for getting packages through displacement, even a garbage can that sent garbage to Vork, the trash planet.

"Ah I see, how about a Mark 9 Teliporter Pistol?" he asked, motioning to a gun on the table, "it can send almost anything anywhere in an eight galaxy radius. Fire planets, ice worlds, blank space, anywhere." The Doctor shook his head.

"Not a fan of guns. I'm not the shooty type." The alien waved him off with a suave grin.

"I hear you loud and clear. How about this?" he pointed to a small box. "This is our Critter Capturer. It sends out mating pheromones and lures any household pests right to it and transports them to the cruelty free, no kill, animal control center on Fourstar Station."

"I need something... bigger," replied the Time Lord. There was no way the Raston would get caught in that. Plus, he would hate to imagine that in an animal shelter.

"How big are we talking here?" the seller inquired.

"Homicidal Robo-Ninja size," he replied. That summed it up. The Hekatonkheirite pondered it for a short time, before ducking behind the counter. His top-back pair of hands stayed on the counter, still waving while he talked.

"I think I may have the thing for you... it worked on a client with a Cyberman problem. They were setting up in his garden shed if you can believe it. Anyway, if it will work on them I think it'll take out whatever your having problems with..." he clunked around for a few more seconds, before popping back up and placing a pair of dark green cubes on the table.

"Displacer mines. You can set the transport location where ever you want, and voice arm it. There also undetectable to most sensors..." he leaned forward, covering his mouth with one hand, "we made 'em to get rid of those damn L-three Robots. All in all a decent choice."

"That sounds perfect," The Doctor replied. They would just need to trick the Warrior Robot into stepping on it. It wouldn't be too hard. It was eager to kill, as it was programmed to do.

"By law I can only sell two per customer per week. Too many were turning up on the streets, literally." The Doctor only nodded. That was fine by him. He doubted he would any more. He paid the man what he was owed, and gathered his things. Now, it was time to get back to Sarah Jane.

He turned around, and started walking, back to his TARDIS from whence he came. As he did something caught his eye; or rather someone. Two someone's.

It was from behind, but he could never mistake her. The shoulder length chestnut hair that hung loosely in her face as she bent over a fruit stand. He recognized the sweater she wore; white with pink and lime stripes. Her lavender pants were tied with pretty ribbons at the ankle, like so many women of the nineteen seventies used to do.

Sarah Jane... but she was young. Only in her twenties by now.

And there he was by her side. He wore his long over coat tight around him, with a multicolored scarf wrapped about his neck. His curly hair was only tamed by a floppy hat that he held onto as he too looked. He was looking at himself, his old self.

It was like looking into a mirror that showed the past. He remembered that day; they traveled here to shop. He made her try Morba berries and she forced a Rutabaga upon him. She had never seen a market such as this, and he had never taken someone here before.

That was so long ago... centuries. Before Trenzalor. Before Weeping Angels or The Silence. Before Bad Wolf. Before The Time War. Before so much...

He wondered how that him would look at him if he could see him now. He was wise beyond his years, despite his poor choices in clothing. His heart was light and understanding. He had a kindness that was undeniable and a sense of right and wrong that was infallible. What would he say to him? Would he be ashamed of who he became? Or would he be proud that he was not worse than what he is? Would he tell him the decisions he made were the right ones? Or would he shake his head and walk away, sorry he ever saw him. Perhaps it said more that Sarah Jane still traveled alongside him. Perhaps it proved only that she was loyal to a fault.

As he stood there and tried to imagine it, he couldn't. That was the problem with regenerating. One could remember what they thought and felt and did, but they could no longer think as their old self once had. Part of him wanted to stroll over there and find out what his fourth self thought of regeneration number thirteen, Doctor number twelve.

Something stopped him. It could have been fear. It could have been shame. Maybe it was just that he did not need to know... not really. What had happened was over. He had done his best to stay true to himself and his name. Never cruel or cowardly, never give up, never give in. And when he tried, no matter how much he felt like he had failed at it, he was The Doctor; just as that self would have wanted him to be.

As he watched his former self and his old companion wander away, he still could not shake the feeling that, had he asked him, the answer would not be what he wanted to hear. Everyone was their own worst critic... even The Doctor.

* * *

Sarah Jane and David followed the path cleared by the ship, carefully stepping over and around downed trees. She had witnessed such things as this before. Though David had not.

She could almost feel his nerves. She could imagine how scared he could be. He had probably never considered aliens before, or space travel. When she explained it, it was obvious how confused he was.

"These boats... they sail among the stars, flying like birds... how can that be?" He asked again, for the third time. It was a good thing that she had been with The Doctor for so long. It taught her Herculean patience.

"They have technology that is far more advanced than you now. Humans will posses it one day as well," she answered. She hoped it would stick this time.

Before long, the pair found their target. She saw it from a distance, the end thrusters facing the sky at a sixty degree angle. It was a simple silo-shaped ship, similar to an Earth rocket. As she moved closer, she could see that the upper section near the front was popped off evenly, laying to the right of it. This seemed odd. Nature did not make straight lines, so it was unlikely it was sheared off that way. She furrowed her brow. This wasn't right.

"Stay here, David," she said cryptically. She didn't want him to worry. He was unnerved enough.

She walked up closer to the ship. She knew the sort of ship Raston Droids flew and this was not it. The ships they made were small and sleek like a fighter jet. This one was nearly six meters long. This one was too large. It had been here awhile, as the moisture had begun to corrode the metal. The nose was smashed in, partially buried in the sloppy mud. Yet, this still looked wrong to her. It was the way the top had popped off, as though it was meant too...

It hit her. This wasn't a ship, it was an escape pod. A very large escape pod. There was something else here. They didn't only have the Warrior Robot to worry about. Some other alien called this place home, and lurked in the woods.

Sarah Jane backed up slowly, glancing in both directions. She felt like something would jump out at any second. She had to get back to The Doctor, tell him what she found. Things just became more complicated.


	5. Original Troublemaker

"Alright so, are we clear on the plan?" The Doctor asked one more time. He heard Sarah Jane sigh audibly. He got the feeling he was annoying her. That or she was so amazed by his plan that she was stunned into silence. It was probably amazement. It was a brilliant plan after all. He didn't mind patting himself on the back.

The pair continued back down the trail, heading for town. David lagged behind them. He did not seem as enthused as he would have hoped. He was experiencing a once in a lifetime opportunity. He could understand his fear and apprehension; the Warrior Robot was a deadly advisory indeed.

At the same time however, this was probably the most excitement this man would ever get to experience. He was in the presence of something life changing. Despite the horror of it, he should appreciate it. Especially since his whole town wasn't going to die via murderous android.

"Yes I understand the plan, except for one facet of it," she replied.

"And that is?"

"Why you put a displacer in the forest near the TARDIS. Would it not be smarter to take both, in case it destroys one?" Sarah Jane reasoned. It was a valid point.

"It's our emergency counter measure. We retreat there and trap it in the forest instead. It's full proof," he returned.

"That's an awful long way to run from a super fast robot assassin," she countered, scrunching up her face uncomfortably, "he'll catch us in no time." He smiled.

"No, the robot will get caught in its own programming. It very likely knows where the TARDIS landed. His sensors probably picked it up the second we showed up. The War Droids set traps. He'll know we're going back to the TARDIS and wait there for us. But we'll be ready for him." Once it was caught in the displacer, it would transport it into deep space. It would take it a thousand years to make it anywhere from there, if it ever did. If they couldn't kill it, they would just eliminate it; put it somewhere where it couldn't maim anyone.

"Sounds like you've thought of everything," she shrugged, "but we both know how your plans usually work out." He chuckled.

"Come now Sarah, have some faith! This is me we're talking about."

"I know that's what worries me," she joked giving him a playful shove.

"My only worry is your sonic isn't done charging. You certainly did a number on it," he chided.

"It's ok, I functioned without it for many years, a few days won't kill me," she accepted.

"Told you not to use omicron phi."

"Stop getting in sword fights with invincible robots," she shrugged.

"Never," he winked.

"I still think you should look at that ship I found before we do this. It makes me nervous," she worried.

"We can look at it once this is through. Get rid of our serial killer then we can set about other things. Especially Father Barman."

"Father Barman? What are you going to do about him? He's the town leader..." David suddenly piped up. The Doctor snorted. What could he do about leaders...

"From what you've told me, his reign of terror has gone on long enough. Trust me, I'm an expert at leader removing, revolution starting, king overthrowing, and rebellion stoking. It's what I do best. I'm the O.T. Original Troublemaker."

"And he's humble too," said Sarah Jane.

"Of course I am, no one likes a braggart," he replied. It was obvious, but he was happy she noticed.

"I hope you are correct, because someone needs to. I'm tired of seeing my friends and neighbors get carted away, never to be seen again, for crimes they never committed." He returned darkly.

The Doctor stopped, and turned around.

"Sometimes... people do terrible things, and they do them without our permission but they affect our lives. For as long as they succeed, people who hurt others get what's coming to them. It may not be today or tomorrow or even a year from now but it happens. It tends to happen quicker when what is coming for them, is me."

David only stared at him for a few moments, looking away uncomfortably. Maybe it was his intense gaze. Maybe it was his threats. Maybe he just didn't believe him. As The Doctor turned around, his hands clenched into fists. No one should need to feel so hopeless. Not while he was around.

As they approached Wardwall, the utter idiocy shocked The Doctor. The town square was packed with villagers. They all were going about their business, shopping, chatting, and walking about like nothing was going on. Like there wasn't a killer among them, waiting to strike. Like they weren't in danger.

"Unbelievable..." he grunted. He had told them to stay indoors until that creature was killed. Was that really so difficult? It would target anyone it saw first. All of them were in danger. Idiots... He stalked forward, purpose in his step. He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket.

"Doctor, what are you going to...?" Sarah Jane started but he ignored her. David glanced at her quickly then back at The Doctor. He was taking care of business.

He held up his sonic screwdriver above his head, and thumbed the button. An ear piercing screech came from the tool, sounding like someone ripping their nails across a chalk board, only louder. He watched Sarah Jane and David both cover their ears and many of the other puritans did the same. All eyes fell on him. Some looked afraid, others confused.

He knew what a bad idea this was. People of this time were technophobic. They never assumed anything beyond their nose was normal. It was always witchcraft. He didn't care. He needed the streets clear for what he was about to do. He was willing to make the self sacrifice of them thinking him evil if it saved their lives. Besides, perhaps after they ousted Barman, the people would be less likely to point fingers and burn people. He finally lifted his thumb off the button, giving them a moment's peace.

"Good, now that I have your attention, I have an announcement!" he shouted. He had dropped all pretenses now. "I told you yesterday, and I'm telling you again today, stay in your homes!" He yelled. "Is a bushel of apples or talking to your friends worth your lives? Because that is what this will cost today. This killer will not hesitate. It feels nothing for any of you; no pity, no guilt, nothing. I will capture it today, but I cannot do it with all of you in the way. I will not have collateral damage. No one else needs to die!"

No one replied, no one moved, not even a muscle. The town square was utterly silent.

"I believe you and I need to have words, Doctor Smith," a deep voice to his left finally answered. The Doctor turned.

Father Barman seethed at his side. The unbridled rage upon his face was obvious. His teeth were gritted and his chest heaved. The Doctor almost laughed. He looked ridiculous.

"You should gather your flock, Father, I'm taking care of your problem," said the Time Lord.

"You have no right," Barman answered, "I have told you before and I will tell you again, you have no right to come into my town and order around my people! Who do you think you are?"

"I'm The Doctor and I'm trying to help you!"

"We did not ask for your help!" Barman shouted back. The Doctor laughed disingenuously. Was he serious?

"You would rather die; have your people die, out of stubborn stupidity? Why? Because I'm an outsider? Because you think it makes you look less powerful? Are you really that prideful?" The Doctor asked.

"You know why, you know what you are," he growled. The Doctor snorted derisively. He knew what he was insinuating

"Are you kidding me? That? That's where you're going? Now, of all times? When people are being gutted?" The Doctor asked. He rubbed his hands across his face, and turned around, walking a few steps. He turned back, pointing to the priest.

"Alright... alright. Fine, I understand. You're stupid. Fine, be stupid, you're entitled to that. But all I ask, is you put your particular brand of idiocy aside for say... twenty minutes, and let me help you. I will get rid of your killer. Once you see what I can do, you will change your opinion. Maybe you'll actually learn something." The Father only glared.

Then he smiled. Although not always someone who picked up on facial features, he knew what sort of smile that was. It was not the sort of smile from someone who was happy, or from a friend to a friend, or even one of realization of the error of his way. It was a mean sort of grin, where he lowered his gaze, almost like a challenge.

"Alright... fine. I will give you your time. But once you are finished, we will speak again." The Doctor saw through his thinly veiled threat. He was sure they would. Father Barman glared for a second or two, before finally turning around.

"Come, take refuge in the house of God!" he hollered to the villagers. He motioned, his arms out wide, and they all flocked to him. Almost the entire town entered the chapel behind their reverend, who shut the door behind them.

The streets were desolate. The utter silence was almost eerie, but The Doctor was glad for it. There was no chance of anyone else getting hurt, besides them. He had no plans of getting hurt, nor would he allow Sarah Jane or David to do so.

He turned to his pair of accomplices, monkeying with the settings on his sonic screwdriver. Seventeen-beta-nine... that was the one. He had used the Tardis to design a new application while he shopped. He would need it to defeat the Raston Warrior Robot.

The Doctor always made it a habit to use his enemy's strengths against them. Much of the time, in the strength, laid the weakness. The robot was no exception.

Raston War Robots did not actually see their prey, rather they scanned them. They homed in on their biometric data, scanned muscles for movement, breathing patterns, even determined their race and identity based on long range DNA scanners. Through this they could virtually "see" their foes. Mixed with their survivability, it was what made it so deadly. Rain, fog, night; none of these affected its ability to fight because of those scanners. Even being decapitated slowed it minimally.

But if he could confuse the scanners... just enough so that it altered its way of processing information, he could defeat it, without breaking his screwdriver. It was still a robot after all; an incredibly sophisticated, extremely deadly robot but a robot none the less.

He had defeated one a long time ago by confusing it, but the circumstance had been different. He had been alongside a former version of himself, and the Robot shut down after it scanned two of the same person. That would not work here of course, not unless he went and plucked one of his former selves out of his timeline to assist him. He had briefly considered that but decided against it. Too many paradox problems. Not to mention most of his past selves were horribly arrogant. Not like the him now.

Instead he had to make an application for it. Something to mess with its threat sensors. He hoped he had succeeded. If he didn't...

"Alright so, when I press this button," he held up the sonic screwdriver, "it will send out an electromagnetic pulse, enough of one to lure the robot here. They are attracted to those because it signifies a serious threat."

"Are you positive it will come? We hurt it fairly badly," Sarah Jane asked.

"It will have mostly repaired itself by now. The damage will be negligible so we cannot take that into effect. However, the signal will interfere with its threat sensors. It will think whoever holds the screwdriver is the largest threat, there for we can control it, and make it do what we want. We'll just have to play a little game of hot potato."

"Sir, I'm not sure I should be present for this. I fear I will slow you down," David worried aloud. The Doctor shot that idea down.

"Can you throw, run and catch?" he asked. The farmer nodded. "Then you'll be fine. Whatever the pair of you do, don't drop it. It'll turn off and give the droid's sensors time to build a fire wall, stopping our efforts. We cannot afford that." The pair nodded. He felt good about them. Sarah was reliable. She would surely make up for David's short comings.

"Get ready," he whispered. He walked to the center of the square, and laid down his displacer mine. He pointed his screwdriver at it, and the oval contraption beeped, armed and ready. He stepped back and took a deep breath and raised his tool high into the air, pressing the button.

This application made no noise, but it was working. It was like bloodying the water to attract a shark. A sword wielding shark... like the ones they had on Jurrokasaka. He waited. Patience was all he needed.

They paid off. He caught the flash of white up on a roof top to his left, then it skipped to the one across the street. In a single eye's blink, the white robot was in front of him, about ten feet from the mine. Shame it hadn't landed on the mine out of the gate. That would have been better than that time he got a hole in one in the twenty-five eleven golf championship.

It had its head and hand reattached, but he could see the slices still where its exoskeleton had not repaired yet. It looked on silently, and its sword slid from its wrist, hopping into its hand.

"Target acquired," it announced. It's formerly soft voice was now garbled and deep. It hadn't fixed the voice processors yet.

"Oh still angry huh? Come on that was nothing to lose your head over," he joked. No reply. Tough crowd. "Wow, not even a chuckle. Cold, espically after giving me such a big hand last night." Still nothing.

It raised its wrist, and The Doctor juked, running to his left. A stream of metal arrows followed, thumping into the dirt and homes behind him. Sarah Jane and David broke into runs as well, his long time friend running behind the Raston droid. A pair of disks whizzed just over The Doctor's head, and he looked to Sarah Jane. He saw her nod and launched the screwdriver through the air, well over the head of the droid.

Sara Jane rushed left, catching the screwdriver with both hands. Almost right away, the robot turned on her, ripping off a volley of arrows. She ducked beneath them and the robot broke into a jog, its sword tracing the ground. He had all but forgotten The Doctor. The application was working. It was heading right for the mine.

At the last second it leapt skyward, dashing The Doctor's hopes. Sarah ducked and ran as the Raston appeared behind her, its slice sailing harmlessly overhead.

"David, catch!" she screamed, and threw the screwdriver.

The villager, a look of terror on his face, grabbed the tool by the tips of his fingers. He froze in place like a dear in the headlights. The robot jumped, blipping out.

"Over here! Throw it here!" Yelled the Scottish Time Lord. He ran to just in front of the mine. If the Robot leapt here it would jump right on top of the displacer. David just had to throw.

He did just that whipping the screwdriver at The Doctor. It spun end over end, on course to the Time Lord.

The Warrior Robot suddenly materialized in its path. The screwdriver harmlessly bounced off its chest clattering to the floor. The Doctor's hearts sank. That put the kibosh on that plan. The robot turned now to The Doctor again, aiming its arms to him.

He burst into action, jumping as it fired a disk meant for his legs, then breaking into a run. It traced him and was about to fire, when it stumbled with a loud clunk.

"Over here you bucket of bolts," Sarah Jane angrily yelled. She threw another baseball-sized rock, hitting the droid in its shiny helm. It turned to her, and leapt. She started to run, and so did The Doctor. He knew what to do.

He rushed to his screwdriver, finding it unscathed. He aimed it at the displacer, letting out a whining warble, deactivating it. He ran to it, scooping it off the ground.

He looked up. Sarah dodged away from a pair of angry swings from the warrior, falling and hitting the ground hard. It raised its blade in the air, and she held up her hands in useless defense.

The Doctor's screwdriver warbled again, knocking it's sword from its hand with a magnetic pulse. It spun immediately, running at him. It held up its hand, calling its sword and jumped, disappearing.

Right in front of him it landed, exactly as he wanted. Before it could attack, The Doctor tossed his mine, hitting it hard in the chest. Instinctively, it caught it, stumbling back.

"Merry Christmas!" The Doctor yelled, and he activated the mine with his screwdriver.

In a flash of bright green light, the Raston Warrior Robot disappeared. Nothing was left behind; it was as though the robot never existed in the first place. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief. They had stopped the killer before it hurt anyone else.

Sarah Jane came to him, a sweet grin on her face. It had been quite some time since he saw her at ease this way. It always made him happy.

"Nice job, told you it would go to pot though," she smirked.

"Now, now, give me some credit, it still worked, it just required a bit of... modification," he scoffed.

"I'm glad it worked Doctor, it had me worried for a few minutes..." she returned kindly, laying her hand on his shoulder. She was one of the few people that could touch him without him wanting to cringe. She was always so warm that way... comforting. "We should talk with David, see how he's doing, he was pretty scared there." The Doctor nodded. If she wanted him to, he would, only for her. The puritan was merely pacing, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked spooked... or maybe hungry... no spooked. He would talk to him.

Before he could however, the doors to the church opened. Father Barman stepped out, followed by his congregation. The men came right behind him. He noted one or two now carried muskets, and a few had farm tools. The women and children hung back, watching the spectacle. It was a stereotype mob. This did not bode well.

"Congratulations Doctor, you have defeated our killer," Barman clapped disingenuously, "and you put on quite a show for us. Thank you, you have confirmed my suspicions about you and your wife, and I'm sad to say, action in the eyes of our Lord is a necessity. After all, the crime of Witchcraft is a crime against all of nature, no matter how good the intentions. Do come quietly, there is no need for bloodshed, not yet."

Both of The Doctor's hearts pounded in his chest. The towns' folk began to surround them, creating a wall of bodies. Only one thing came to mind.

"Sarah, Run," he whispered vehemently. He prayed she listened to him, for once in her life.


	6. The Doctor, The Witch and the Dungeon

_(Author's note: hey guys and gals. This chapter has another action sequence in it involving our favorite Time Lord. I'm trying to challenge The Doctor differently in every story, and this one has had the most physical aspects where he has had to decide between non-violent ideals or safety of others. Hope it's enjoyable. Also, the parrot bit was something a coworker said to me. I don't know if he was adlibbing or if that's from something , but it was too good to pass up)_

The Doctor's ancient eyes darted from person to person, the mob surrounding him growing more and more restless with every second. There were far too many to realistically fight, and they wouldn't be able to escape a crowd this large for long. There was only one solution.

Someone would have to stay. One of them would need to sacrifice themselves, so the other could get away. It was obvious who. He had many more lives to live, if he were lucky. Sarah Jane only had one. Plus, they would more than likely imprison him, and put him on trial. He had time. She didn't need to go through that.

"Go, just go, now!" he barked. She gave him that worried look, her eyes looking like they would tear up at any moment. He hated to see her that way. He raised his sonic screwdriver, pointing it at the crowd before them.

"But," she started.

"Don't argue, go!" He pressed the button on his tool, the low whirring starting as he did so.

Almost instantly, the Puritans backed up. Some covered their ears, others recoiled in fear. Technology was witchcraft to them. It was something evil and perverse. For once, idiocy was a benefit. She had her opening. He needed her to take it. She gave him one final sympathetic look.

She took off. She ran, shoving her way through the hole in the crowd. One man grasped at her, his fingers grazing her back, almost grabbing her. She ducked at just the right moment, and disappeared quickly, his view blocked by the villagers in front of him. He saw a few men brake off and give chase. At least one had a musket. He prayed she would be alright. If he could will it so, he would have.

She had broken free, and the bulk of the men had stayed behind to corral him. Now, he just had to buy her time. As much as he could.

The villagers had recovered from their scare now, and they cautiously stepped to him.

"You should just surrender, old man," cat called Father Barman. The Doctor scoffed. That wouldn't happen. He caught sight of the Priest in the back of the group. He had a devilish smile upon his twisted face. He was enjoying this. It was disgusting.

There was only one course of action, only one that would buy Sarah Jane enough time, and it was not a course he liked. He was going to have to fight; not with words, but with his hands.

He was never a man who enjoyed causing pain to others. He always attempted to find the diplomatic solution, if one existed. When one didn't, he still preferred to use intelligence to combat his foes. He wasn't a Neanderthal after all. However, there were times when there was no alternative.

He was a master of Venusian Aikido, and a few other forms of martial arts. He was apt in a fight, whether he enjoyed it or not. Violence was unsightly. However, Sarah Jane was far more important than his own feelings towards the matter. He would do anything to protect her.

He fixed the cuff of his jacket. There was no reason to look a mess after all. He spread his feet a bit, and put up his hands, taking up stance. He just had to buy her time. Just enough.

He let them make the first move, the first villager stepping up to grab him. The Doctor was faster, deftly stepping aside. With one hand, he grabbed his shoulder blade, the other clamped down on his arm. With momentum carrying him, and he tossed him aside, dispatching him for the time being. He could have killed him, easily. However, The Doctor knew how wrong that would be. These people were afraid, and whipped into a frenzy by a liar. They weren't evil. Misguided and stupid, but not evil.

The next came at him more viciously, swinging a right hook. The Doctor intercepted him, blocking with his forearm. The palm of his hand shot out in retaliation, first cracking into his shoulder, then quickly into his jaw. The man crumpled to the ground immediately. Another Puritan came from his left, his hands balled up.

The Doctor was faster, whipping around with a quick kick to the midsection, knocking him down with a pained grunt.

The next that rushed up carried a pitchfork. He stabbed it hard at The Doctor in an attempt to skewer him. He backstopped quick, just out of range of the deadly instrument. He grabbed the tines and stepped sideways, yanking him forward. The man stumbled passed him, and The Doctor's boney elbow smashed down between his shoulder blades. The man hit the ground, and The Doctor grabbed the pitchfork.

A gunshot cracked in the distance, echoing through the crisp air. It made him fight harder. He spun about, slapping the blunt end of the pitchfork across his next attacker's face. With a crack he fell. He tossed the farm tool into the waiting arms of the next man, catching him off guard. Next came a kick to the solar-plexus, crippling him.

Suddenly, The Time Lord was grabbed from behind, pinning his arms to his side. The Doctor struggled against his assailant, nearly breaking free. He felt the man straining against him. Another gunshot, this one even further. They were shooting at her. He struggled more.

"Your stronger than you look," the Puritan growled. Another came to his aid, his fist colliding with the defenseless Time Traveler's face. Pain erupted through his jaw, and the skin immedeatly grew hot.

The Doctor wasn't done however. Using the man holding him as leverage, he pushed back, and threw out both feet. The man holding him let go as the pair fell, and both feet hit his other opponent in the chest, knocking him down.

The Time Lord landed atop the other Puritan, rolling down onto the ground. He started to get up, flipping to his side. As he did his vision was filled with a black, buckled shoe. This was going to hurt.

Everything went black.

* * *

Sarah Jane Smith ran for her life. Her heart thundered in her chest, filling her ears with it's deafening pounding as she veered off course, taking to the thick forest.

She dodged, and ducked through limbs, and bush, throwing her hands in front of her face. Twigs and branches scraped her skin, but she kept on running.

She didn't hazard a look backwards. She could hear the men behind her, their heavy footfalls shuffling leaves, and cracking wood. Unintelligible, angry yells echoed behind her. She just had to run, make her way back to the road somehow. Make it to the TARDIS. Then she could set about saving The Doctor.

A tear rolled down her cheek. He was an idiot. A bloody idiot. He didn't have to stay. They could have found a way out together. Something could have been done. Why did he do this? Sacrifice himself, his well being, for her? Did he realize what it did to her, every time? How much she worried? How it ripped her apart inside?

He did it because he was The Doctor, that was why. He was incredibly brave and put everyone else before himself. That was why she cared for him. He was selfless.

A loud crack like a car backfiring exploded behind her. Instinctively she ducked, a piece of a tree shattering off ahead. She immediately shot off on a diagonal. She wanted to put as many trees between her, and that gun as she could.

She glanced back. They were gaining on her, the man with the gun right in front. He was reloading as he ran. It was sloppy, and taking him longer, but he was still managing. Her legs burned with strain as she jumped a log, catching her foot on it, and stumbling, nearly falling. She couldn't afford that.

Another gunshot rang out, this one whizzing past her like an enraged bee. She changed direction again. She knew that wouldn't lose them, but it made her feel better for some reason. She heard more angry shouts, and tried to push harder.

She was inadvertently slowing down. Every muscle in her body burned, and sweat dripped down her face, stinging her eye. She couldn't get caught. They did terrible things to people who they thought were witches. Not only that, how could she save The Doctor if they captured her?

She couldn't keep up this pace, and she knew it. She had to stop, to hide... something.

She bounded down a hill, stumbling from the speed. She almost fell as she dodged a tree, finally coming to level ground again. A small river stretched out ahead of her. The bubbling brook appeared shallow, but Sarah Jane knew how looks could be deceiving. Across it lay more woods, those looking even thicker.

She glanced back. The men were closing in, even more rapidly now that she had stopped running. She shook her head, kicking herself for the direction she had chosen. There were few options at this point.

Begrudgingly she started wading, stepping down into the shallows. Her shoes filled with water almost right away. The feeling of wet socks was revolting to her, but she had more problems right behind her. She hurried, splashing down to her knees.

Another ear shattering crack broke from behind her. This round was the closest yet, splashing into the water right next to her. She jogged in panic, the river now up to her waist. She tried to hurry but her feet floated with each step, and her wet clothing held her down. She knew the man with the musket was reloading. At this range, she doubted he would miss. She still tried to make it to the other shore. She was half way there.

Loud splashing came from behind her. They were coming into the water after her. Even if she made it to the other shore, they would be even closer behind her. Soaking wet, she would never get away.

A blood chilling scream tore the air behind her. She turned around fast. She originally thought one of the men was somehow drowning in the shallows, but as she turned, the scene before her struck fear into even her.

The man with the musket was on the ground, twitching uncontrollably as though having a seizure. Another was next to him, suspended in the air, held by some unseen force. The two following her clambered out of the water, one running down the shore, the other standing frozen in place.

A fifth figure stood some ways up the hill. Sarah could tell it was female, as the thin figure was undeniable. Her other features however were hidden by a tattered, dark hood. She leaned on a gnarled wooden walking stick, and she pointed one finger at the last man, looking like a warning. From here Sarah could see how long her nails were, nearly claws, and she could make out some sort of tattoo snaking up her arm.

The man started to run, but the woman stabbed at him with her staff. A bolt of angry read shot from the head, tracking the running villager. It hit him squarely in the back, and he flew forward, stiff as a board. He then floated into the air, staying thusly.

Sarah Jane stood still, awestruck. She was unsure what to do. This woman had saved her life, but she had learned that sometimes the enemy's enemy was just as cruel. And looking apon her, she could not deny what she was seeing, no matter how impossible she wanted to believe it was.

That woman was a witch. She watched as she gently walked down the hill, ignoring her handy work, her hood pointed at Sarah Jane. As she reached the shore, she reached out one hand, beckoning her to come.

"Don't be afraid child," she hissed, though not in the menacing way Sarah would have expected, "there are much more evil things than me in these woods. You are not a follower of the snake, poisoning this garden. Come, I will help you, for you will help me."

* * *

The Doctor awoke in mid air. The air rushed around him as he fell, a dusty stone floor rising up to meet him. He landed hard, knocking the wind out of him. Slowly he turned over onto his back.

He was in a cellar as far as he could tell. It was dark and dank, with a damp, moist feel to the air. The walls were made of stone, and the floor covered in smatterings of hay. A metal door was the only exit from here, It was completely dark, but for a single barred window near the ceiling. It was only about two feet wide; he wouldn't be getting out through there.

He watched the pair of men who tossed him here open the door and walk out. He probably could have bum rushed them, but he was sure there were more outside. It would eventually end with him back here, or worse. There would be other opportunities to escape.

He was getting a headache, so he plopped down on the hard, stone, floor. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then his temples. They should have just left, like he wanted to. He had known how this would go, that it would end up this way. He should have just left them all with an alien assassin, let them suffer. He shook his head. He couldn't do that. They were ignorant and stupid, but that did not mean they deserved painful deaths, that their wives deserved painful deaths. Or their children. No one here deserved what the Raston Warrior Robots were built to do. Except maybe Barman. He probably did.

His mind worried for Sarah Jane. He hoped she got away. She was smart, resourceful and incredibly brave. If anyone could get away, it was her. He needed her to, not just for his well being, but because he didn't want to see her dead. He was tired of losing people, but he especially did not want to lose her. She was his best friend after all. One of the only people in the entire universe that really understood him.

He checked his pockets. No sonic screwdriver. They took his yo-yo too... even his pack of Jellybabies. What kind of monsters took someone's Jellybabies? It's like stealing Jammy Dodgers. That should be illegal.

Suddenly the door opened, and The Doctor stood. He wasn't going to try and escape, not yet. They would expect that.

Father Barman stepped through the entry. His cold face was unreadable, but The Doctor imagined he was gloating inside. Men like him had a sadistic sense of joy when they believed they had won.

"You are quite the handful, aren't you," the Priest asked, "but the Lord always wins out in the end."

"What are you playing at?" The Doctor sneered, "this is more than just about paranoia, or zealotry. How did a madman like you come to control these people?" Barman chuckled, shaking his head.

"Once they were presented with the evidence that a Sion of Christ was among us, it was easy for them to leave their false faiths and heretical beliefs," he replied.

"Ah I love this, someone coming in and creating their own religion's," The Doctor smirked, "I've seen some interesting one's you know. The one with with people worshipping an old tire is my favorite."

"You mock us for our belief?" Barman asked, narrowing an angry gaze.

"I mock you because you use your beliefs to do horrible things to people. Belief can be a good thing, but not the way you use it!" He argued.

"I have come as a mercy. I will give you one final chance to confess. If you confess your sins, and that you are a witch, you can avoid a trial, and your punishment will be swift and painless," Barman explained, ignoring The Doctor's inflammatory statement. The Doctor was quiet for a short time. He wasn't considering it, not one bit. But he wanted to seem like he was.

"I'm not sure what to say to that, so I'll tell you a story. I once met a man with a parrot on his shoulder," he chattered. Inwardly he smiled at the flabbergasted expression on Barman's face. "I walked up to him and said, 'Hey buddy, can I ask you a question?' The parrot replied, 'No, go away, I'm busy!' In this equation, you're me, and I'm the parrot. Understand?"

Barman didn't reply, only staring at him.

"Your trial will begin tomorrow morning. May God help your worthless soul," he replied, and he walked away, heading for the door. "Oh, by the way..." he stopped short, "we haven't found your servant yet but we will. She will pay the same price as you in the end."

"Don't you dare to touch Sarah Jane." The Doctor growled.

" God's lips to my ears, my son," he replied. As he exited, another was pushed in, the door slamming behind them.

It was David. He had a black eye, and a fat lip. Guilt clutched The Doctor. The Puritan was not a part of this, not really. Another would be punished for his transgressions.

That was another thing he was tired of. But most of all he was tired of manipulators like Barman.


	7. What Night Hides

Sarah Jane, and the Witch travelled most of the day. By the time they had almost reached their destination, the sun had begun to dip below the horizon.

The forest had begun to take a new form the longer they walked. The ground became soggy, slowly transforming to puddles of muddy water. Tall cat-tails and plumes of Pampas grass intermingled with the trees, creating a sea of soggy vegetation. Alive with the constant drone of bugs

and ribbiting of frogs, it was quite a departure from the silent, sleepy forest.

Sarah had initially thought that she would be afraid, or perhaps this woman would prove to be far worse than her original captors. She had seen the devastation brought upon those villagers. Not only that, there were more times than she could remember, that she went from the frying pan into the fire. However, for once, this did not appear to be the case. At least... not yet.

The woman had been nothing but kind. She spoke very little, and only trudged on through the water. She stopped to ask her multiple times if she was alright or if she needed to rest, offering her clean water, and a mix of nuts and berries. She had even wrapped a shawl around her, knowing she had caught a chill from being in the water. Although it helped little, as she was still soaked and the swamp was clammy, she still appreciated the kind gesture.

Sarah was concerned however. Firstly, she had been forced to leave The Doctor behind. She knew how intelligent he was, and how tricky he could be. However, he was not invincible. She didn't want him to be hurt, or to die. Not trying to protect her. Not for her... She hoped he had not regenerated. Although it would not stop her from accompanying him, she was very much enjoying this Doctor's company

Secondarily, she had asked the woman she travelled with, to turn around one time already. She wanted to get back to the TARDIS. She wanted to get to The Doctor. It was met with rejection.

"There are more important things to be done tonight. Your friend can wait," was her mysterious reply.

That perhaps, disturbed Sarah Jane the most. How did this woman know she had a friend in danger? Had she been watching her? Did she actually have some power of foresight? She doubted it was an educated guess.

The deeper they trudged, the more the swamp appeared to close in. The thick tangles nearly grasped at her as she walked passed,, and slimy trees blocked out the sun above. The heavy mist blocked out the vision far ahead, leaving only pale silhouettes in the distance. Sarah did not know a harsh swamp such as this existed in Massachusetts.

As if she read her thoughts, the mysterious woman spoke up.

"This marsh, it disturbs you, does it?" She asked. Her shrill voice sounded as though she was smiling.

"I just did not know a swamp like this was here. I never remembered seeing one on a map." Sarah answered. She wasn't going to let this woman know that this place did, in fact, give her the creeps.

"Wise girl..." she trailed, "it is a refreshing thing when someone notices what does not belong. Those who live within the walls notice nothing."

"I'm not sure I've noticed anything," she puzzled. A chill ran up her spine. Whether it was her new companion, or the clammy swamp, she could not say.

"You see more than you think," she returned, stopping, "look around. Does this place not look ill to you? The trees are gnarled, and sick, the water murky and poisoned. The air itself smells of death. But it's more than that. You can feel the darkness in it's heart. The sore on the face of Mother Earth."

Sarah nodded in cautious agreement. She thought maybe her bleak feeling was due to today's events, and the miasma of being in a place such as this but... what was this woman getting at? Had this place not always been this way?

"You are a woman of logic, and thought. Of this, I can tell. But even you must know, evil leaves a mark, a scar upon the world where it is done. Especially great evil. Such an evil is here. It tries to convince us all that it does not exist, but mark my words child... it does. The serpent always pretends to not exist, while it weaves it's dark work." There was only one reply Sarah Jane could muster.

"What sort of evil are you talking about? Barman?" The witch let out a chuckle.

"A mere pawn in this game. He was a common criminal once, that one. A roadside bandit before he found his poison Savior, and began to infect Wardwall with corruption. He dabbles in pools of darkness with the fumbling hands of a dullard." Sarah shook her head. This was all so confusing. She was beginning to agree with The Doctor, people just needed to get to the point.

"I," she started.

"Yes, you," the Witch interrupted, "you... who's past is written across the stars, and the clock. Who's path is not so linear like the other mortals. Who has seen Gods fall, and demons tremble, all in the company of the lonely wanderer. You will stop this great menace."

Sarah Jane's mouth hung open. There was no way she could know all of that. It was not possible. Yet, here she stood, saying it as though she had been there herself. How could that be, unless she was exactly what she seemed to be. She could hardly believe it.

"All in good time... come," we have almost arrived at our destination.

The pair continued to walk, and Sarah hardly knew what to think. She had seen the bizarre, and the weird, almost her whole adult life. But this... was new, even to her.

As darkness fell, they finally approached where the Witch was taking them. A small shack beside a murky pond. Ethereal yellow light illuminated the boarded up windows, and rickety door was locked with a length of rope. The roof was full of gaps, and holes, and the walls covered in moss.

"We are here. Welcome to my home, Sarah Jane." It should have surprised her that she knew her name, but at this point, nothing did.

* * *

The dank basement was nearly pitch black in the night. A sliver of pale moonlight leaked through the single, tiny window, painting the bars onto the floor.

The Doctor sat with his back against the wall, staring into the blackness. He could not see David, but he could hear his breathing.

He was wracked with guilt. This man... he had already lost so much. Now he could lose his life, all because he had helped him. He did not deserve to be punished for that.

In fact, neither of them deserved punishment. All because of paranoia, and mass hysteria? It was ridiculous. No one needed to die because of someone else's perversion of faith. All too often it happened, through out all of time and space. He never understood why it needed to happen. Any excuse to hate, he supposed.

His thoughts slowly wormed their way to Sarah Jane. He was trying not to think about her. Worry would eat him alive. He needed to have his wits about him, if he was to get out of this.

He just wanted her to be alright. That was all he ever wanted for her. His inward struggle was ironic to him; he wanted her to be safe yet it was he who constantly put her in harm's way. The safest place was at home, yet he so selfishly wanted her by his side. The dichotomy was maddening.

"Is it true... what your friend told me?" David abruptly asked, breaking the hours-long silence, "that people are not this way, in the future?"

"You mean stupid?" replied the Time Lord, "no, they're still stupid. But for the most part they don't kill people for being witches. So I suppose it is better. People always kill each other over stupid things."

"That's good to know... give's me hope." The Doctor sighed.

"I'm sorry I got you involved in this David. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me," he apologized.

"Don't be sir, it was only a matter of time. You heard how Barman addressed me. I'd be here soon enough. May as well get it over with." The Doctor shook his head.

"I always hated this time period," the Scotsman groused.

"Why? Have you been here before?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It was a long, long time ago. I was a different man back then. I was a young stupid man, pretending to be an old wise man. I was present at the Salem trials."

"I heard a bit about that business. Sounds terrible," David piped in.

"It was. It was horrible. I wasn't at all who I am now. I was so afraid to break the rules. To be a renegade. I let it get in the way of saving people who deserved to be saved."

That was why he just wanted to turn back when he arrived. Part of it was the knowledge that people here were violent and ignorant. Another part was shame.

It was part of what changed him. Time Lords were not supposed to meddle. After that... and so many other things he just let happen, he couldn't help himself. What was the point of having the power to visit any where at any time, if he could not do good with it? He stopped just calling himself "The Doctor" and really became what the name meant.

"You didn't let it get in the way this time. You saved the whole town from that iron monster," David replied.

"Lot of good it has done us," he complained.

"You did the right thing. Even if they don't. Barman claims to be a man of the Lord, but I think you are much more that than he." The Doctor shook his head, knowing David could not see. If only the simple farmer knew all he had done. He had done worse things than he could even imagine in his wildest dreams.. Did his good deeds make up for the bad ones?

He hoped he would find the answer to that question down there in that basement. He didn't of course, but he tried.

* * *

Deep water held dark secrets. The murk gripped them in it's crushing embrace, rarely letting go. Most did not know the marsh contained a small lake. Most did not dare venture into the swamps so deep.

Father Barman however, was not most men. The Priest calmly walked the unseen path through the swampland. It was familiar to him now, though when he first began, he got lost many times. A bog such as this played tricks on the mind. But he was immune now.

Most would fear walking in such a dark place alone, with only the light of a lantern to guide them. His Faith was his shield however. God was on his side. God guided him. Worked though him. He was merely a puppet to his stern master.

He smiled to himself. This man, this Doctor John... he would be sufficient. Of this he knew. He could tell this was a man who had sinned. His soul was stained with evil. Unabashed and unashamedly he had sinned. He showed no remorse.

He knew what that was like. He had once been that way. He had committed atrocities against God, and his fellow man. If there was a crime, no matter how disgusting, he had committed it. He did it with glee and demented enjoyment. No remorse.

Until he found his Savior. He had come here while he ran from a fellow thief. They had gotten into a squabble over the pilfered goods from their most recent assault on a wagon. He had never been a fighter. He much preferred to stab one in the back as they slept.

He ran into the swamp, losing his attacker, but becoming lost himself. It was that night he saw it streak down from the sky in a ball of flame, an Angel from the heavens.

He found it here, and it spoke to him. At first he was afraid. But he soon realized it was benevolent. It had come here to destroy the sinners, and purify the village. It had sensed his deep hidden regret, and made him it's disciple. Redemption... is what it offered. He began spreading it's word to the village near by, becoming their leader.

It's transformation was nearly complete. He knew it... he could feel it. That Doctor... he was so full of sin. He would do the trick. Yes... he was perfect.

Father Barman approached the murky lake at the swamp's southern edge. The deep water stretched out seemingly forever, it's brown muck glowing silver in the moonlight.

He set down his lantern, and dropped to his knees on the shore.

"I call out to Thee, Heavenly Host. I bring tidings and news from our village," he called to the water. No reply came. His Savior was fickle at times.

"A man has come to Wardwall. He is filled with more sin than any I have seen before. His soul is black as pitch. He holds no Holiness in his heart. No goodness. He is a witch. I shall bring him before you soon, for judgment. I suspect he is the one we have been seeking. The one to complete the transformation."

The water rippled near the edge, and a dark shadow rose high into the sky from it, rearing up, sending waves, and splashes in it's wake. In the dark all he could see was a thick shadow, but he need not see his Savior to know it was there. It opened it's eyes; a pair of red, silted orbs, that glowed like fire.

It's deep voice rumbled in the blackness, sending chills down Barman's spine.

"Excellent... bring him to me. I need more sin to devour." The Priest would seek to do just that. God's lips to his ears.


	8. Those Who Cast The Stones

Smoke rose in the distance. The yellow sky above was marred by plumes of smog. Gigantic spinning saucers loomed overhead, blotting out a pair of suns, their menacing lights threatening death. Nearby, a long, metal cylinder-ship hung low, a wheel-like apparatus spinning methodically.

Smaller ships of all shapes, and sizes streaked across the horizon, locked in deadly combat. Flame burst out of some like fireworks, other's twirling to the ground in a spiral of death.

Sarah Jane's heart thundered in her chest. She clenched her fists tightly, looking across the crater blasted planet's surface. Desolate, it was battle torn, the fog of war hanging in the air.

She turned, finding The Doctor. He ran towards her, screwdriver clutched in his boney hand, the green tip ablaze. His face was a mask of determination. His mouth was open, and he was yelling something to her, though she could not hear what. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and she turned around. She heard it before her eyes fell on it.

"Exterminate!"

Sarah Jane awoke with a jump. Normally she did not have nightmares, but she could hardly be surprised. She chalked it up to being in a strange place. Normally, she could sleep almost anywhere, this place, however, was not like any other, and that was saying something.

The tiny shack was packed with all sorts of oddities. The wall by the door was decorated with a strange wreath created of a variety of ivies and vines. The other side of the door was home to a tiny window. The sill was littered with half melted candles, leaves and berries. The adjoining wall held a rickety wooden shelf.

All manner of jars, and bottles sat upon it. Some held herbs, and dried plants, others liquids of various colors. One was filled with a musky water, and had a petrified frog floating in it. Another she took note of, held the most beautiful rose she had ever laid eyes upon, growing from the forehead of a dog's skull.

The wall adjoining that had a table pushed against it. Spread across it were many tools of her trade. A mortar and pestle sat with leaves crushed in it. Near that, a dagger, and wooden cup. Sweet smelling incense burned in a decorative vessel shaped like a bull, the aromatic smoke escaping it's ringed nose. A pile of scattered runes lay near that, with a spread deck of tarot cards.

Sarah Jane sat up on the lumpy, straw bed. She rubbed the back of her neck uncomfortably. She hand not slept restfully; it had taken her a long time to even get to her nightmare ridden sleep. Part of her insomnia was mere mistrust. She was staying in the house of a stranger, one who was potentially dangerous. Although she seemed to be an ally, Sarah was not taking her chances. She would not let down her guard until she was absolutely sure she could be trusted.

Not only that, the fate of her oldest friend weighed on her. She knew he could take care of himself. He was an ancient being who had faced down armies alone, and saved galaxies with the snap of a finger. Still, it did not mean she did not fear for him. Only someone completely heartless could be so cold, as to not worry for their oldest friend.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the front door creaked open. The Witch who had brought her here last night walked through, still clothed in the same robes she had been in last night, her face obscured by her hood. She carried with her a woven, wicker basket, filled to the brim with berries.

"Good, you are awake," he said hurriedly, placing her basket upon the floor, "there are many things you must do today." Slowly, she pulled back her hood.

Much to Sarah Jane's surprise, she was not an old crone as she had initially thought. The pale woman was fair of skin, and could not be more than twenty years old. Her hair was a vibrant red and impossibly curly, reaching well down into her hood. Her eye's were striking; the most green of greens Sarah could ever imagine, and her lightly freckled cheeks only added to her youthful appearance. It surprised her, considering she called her "child" so often. Sarah Jane however, knew looks could be deceiving.

"Hahaha, surprised are you? Expecting someone older?" She asked.

"Youthful appearance doesn't necessarily conatate age," Sarah answered back. She knew that alone from knowing The Doctor.

"Indeed..." she returned, giving her a sidelong glance, "there are more important things than this to be done. This corrupting force cannot continue. It is you who will stop it." She turned about, and began picking through the big shelf.

"Why me? You hardly know me, and you have been here far longer than myself," asked Sarah. She wasn't unwilling, more curious.

"It is written across the stars, child, spelled out long before we arrived," as she continued to rummage, she pulled back the sleeve of her robe.

Her arm bore a tattoo, just above the wrist. Sarah recognized the symbol; a snake coiled in a circle, eating it's own tale. Oroboros; a symbol for eternity. It made her more suspicious. That was not a common tattoo, not by any standards. Secondarily, it was a symbol of Time; she never ignored those, not since traveling with The Doctor. Most of the time, something such as that was benign. However, it still made her wonder.

"You better than anyone should understand fate, and the games it plays. And..." the Witch paused, "it will serve a duel purpose. You must defeat a great evil to save your friend."

"Why should I trust you?" Sarah finally asked, "I don't even know your name!" She wanted more information... something to prove this was the correct path. That her trust would not be misplaced.

"I have many names... I have been called many things. You... you may call me Ria." She replied.

"That isn't the point..." Sarah argued.

"I know," Ria cut off, "but we don't have time. Even if you don't trust me, you can trust me more than that sorry excuse for a priest. The man seeking to kill your companion. Ahh... here it is." She pulled a large jar from the shelf, and a long tube made of bamboo. She walked across the room, setting both things down. She pulled a small, winged dart from inside the tube, and opened the jar.

"This swamp is inhabited by a monstrosity. It is ancient, and evil. It must be killed. It thinks itself a deity among the peons," she explained absently coating the tip of the dart, "it is not, and even if it were, Gods too, can fall. Have you used one of these before?"

Sarah Jane shook her head. When would she have used a dart gun? That was actually a stupid question; she immediately thought of three different times she may have learned that.

"It is simplistic. Point, and blow," Ria shrugged, "though be forewarned, do not pierce your finger upon the dart. This poison... is the deadliest of the deadly; extracted from the Judas Tree" Sarah nodded slowly, unsure what to say. She thought she had heard The Doctor mention it once... but she couldn't rightly say where. This was all moving so fast... uncomfortably so.

She barely knew this woman, and she was sending her on a rescue mission inside an assassination of some evil creature. Supposedly it would save The Doctor, but how could she be sure? Aside from that, how did she know the creature she was being sent to poison was even something evil? She had met many people in her travels with a twisted version of right, and wrong, good, and evil. She would need to be careful, and use her head.

Next, the woman placed a short, silver rod on the table. It was shaped like a striking snake, it's fangs barred, and ready to bite. It was an eerie piece... but Sarah Jane could see the theme with this woman.

"This... will lead you to the lair of the beast. It will beat like the human heart when you are heading in the correct direction. The swamp is shallow... you should find no obstacles."

"How will I know when I'm there?" Sarah asked. The Witch only smiled.

"You will know..." Sarah Jane shook her head. She did not like this... not at all. She almost felt like a mercenary. She hated mercenaries.

"Ah, one final thing..." she said, moving from the shelf to the small table. She rummaged around through her hodgepodge of things, eventually coming up with a small, simple, leather pouch. She pulled the strings, opening it, and dumped the contents into her hand. She walked to Sarah Jane, holding out her hand.

Sarah took the object; a ring. It was curious; very ornate and carved of onyx. It was two strands, entwined together in a Celtic knot. It almost looked familiar to her, as though she had seen it before, through she could not place where. It was weighted more than she had thought it would be; it was surprisingly heavy for something so small. It held no stone, or symbols upon it.

"You will need this in the future. I have foreseen it. It will not be now, but later, much later," Ria explained.

"Alright..." Sarah Jane returned cautiously. It was not the first time a mysterious person gifted her with something she would "need later". It never foreshadowed anything good. In fact... it was usually very bad. "What does it do? And how will I know when the time has come?"

"You will know..." Ria returned cryptically, "your companion will leave you." Sarah Jane nodded with a shrug.

"Believe me, I know that more than anyone. He always does, it's his nature, and I accept that." And she did... mostly. Admittedly, it was a journey; she had resented The Doctor to some extent for a long time. However, he was like the ocean; ever changing, and uncontrollable. In that way, she was just happy to have him in her life, while he was here. The Witch only smiled slyly.

"This time will not be like the last. He will leave you when he needs you the most," she elaborated, "you will need that ring when this happens. Wear it... at all times, and do not show it to The Doctor."

"I'm not going to keep it a secret from him," Sarah argued. She took notice of the woman's speech. It was the first time that she had spoken the Time Lord's name. She wondered why all of a sudden. Was this all about him perhaps? An old friend? Or enemy? She did not have the time to ask.

"Time is growing short. You must reach the beast's lair by nightfall. Your journey is much farther than his... you must leave now," Ria continued. Sarah only sighed, bristling. She had that sinking feeling today was going to be a long day.

* * *

The misty morning light peered through the barred window, waking The Doctor from his restless sleep. As he blinked bleary-eyed, he remembered where he was. The dreary basement was damp in the morning dew, with a chill that lingered in the bones.

He glanced out the window, only able to see a pair of decrepit, withered trees from here. Beyond that, the misty morning sky, scattered with bleak clouds.

He couldn't help but think of Sarah Jane. Was she still out there somewhere, or had they caught her? Was she safe? Had she spent the night out there, alone, in the cold? He hoped the worst hadn't happened... he didn't know what he would do if that happened. He knew where he had nearly gone when he almost lost her on the Black Inertia. He never wanted to feel that way again.

He turned his head as the door handle rattled. He got to his feet, brushing the straw from himself. He already looked a mess, but still... he tried to keep some semblance of semi-sophistication. Sleepily, David began to awaken, slowly blinking the fatigue from his eyes.

The door opened, and a pair of villagers stepped through. Both had guns, one a musket pistol, one a rifle. Another lurked in the shadows, this one with a knife.

"The time has come, you're coming with us," the pistol wielder called.

"For tea, and crumpets? Oh how very thoughtful," The Doctor responded sarcastically. The men responded by pointing their guns. "You can put those down, I'm not going to try to run. It worked too well last time." He put up his hands, and walked forward. With two men in front of him, and one in back, they led him up the stairs, and out of the dank cellar, out into the streets.

He knew what he would meet outside, yet somehow it still surprised him. The savage crowd was awaiting his arrival, and as those doors swung open, the shouts began.

The men in front of him started pushing their way through the throngs of people, and pushing their prisoner through. The crowd first hurled curses, and insults, each trying to drown out the last man, then the rocks came. Most sailed harmlessly passed, but a few pelted against his arms, and legs painfully. He even caught sight of someone tossing vegetables. It was sad; before him was splattered a perfectly good tomato. He would never understand why humans wasted food as a projectile. Why did lettuce deserve to die?

They shoved him through, right to the town hall. The door opened, and he was pushed inside. It was a round room, with an open floor at the center. There was a small podium up a set of stairs on the north, with two more on the east, and west. The south consisted of row after row of benches. The Doctor guessed that it was probably so Barman had a proper audience while he did horrible things to people.

The crowd filed in behind him, filling in the seats, as he was hassled to the northern podium. He climbed the stairs, and pulled out the chair at the top, opting to stand instead. He rolled his eyes while the villagers continued to toss curses his way. If there was a God, he reckoned his ears were bleeding right now.

After a few minutes, the doors at the front of the hall swung open. The crowd quieted as their leader strolled in; Barman. He practically basked in the glory of his flock, a wide grin on his face. He took his place at the center of the room, holding up his hands, silencing any still speaking. The Doctor noted that in one hand, he held The Doctor's Sonic Screwdriver. He had every intention of getting that back.

"God's blessings upon you, my children," Father Barman began, his smooth voice reverberating around the room, "we are gathered here today, for the burdensome task of determining a man's soul, and discerning his innocence, in the eyes of the Lord."

"He's a witch! Hang him!" Came a singular catcall from the crowd. Barman quieted him with but a gesture.

"Now now, let us not jump to conclusions. He is innocent, until we discern otherwise. Even then, only the Lord, our Lord, made flesh, can judge him," said the Holyman. The Doctor snickered sardonically. His false neutrality, and seemingly unbiased attitude wasn't fooling anyone. On second thought, it probably was; everyone but him.

"However, it is up to us to hand out justice where we can, for a sin seen, and unpunished, is a sin in itself. I will put forth the evidence of his guilt, or innocence, and any witnesses who wish to speak will do the same, and we will decide his fate." The priest turned about, looking up at The Doctor.

"Before we begin, I give you one final chance, do you wish to confess anything?" The Doctor smiled, rapping his knuckles on the podium a few times.

"Well, by gosh I do," he replied in a mock tone. This trial was a joke, and he would treat it as such. "I confess that I think you're all a bunch of brainless idiots. Pudding brained morons! Personally I don't think the lot of you are worth the powder it would take to blow you all to kingdom come! But we all know how I feel doesn't matter here, so please, by all means, continue with your theatrics. I'm quite enjoying the show." He pulled up the chair and plopped down it it, lacing his hands behind his head, and throwing his booted feet up on the podium.

"Fine then..." Barman sneered, "our first order of business is the, so called coincidence. Are we truly to believe that it is a coincidence, that we find a man murdered on the same day that this man, and his wife arrive in our town?"

"He caught the murderer! We saw it!" someone in the crowd shouted. At least someone was sticking up for him, even a little.

"Oh yes, indeed, and I do not deny that. However who is to say he did not attract this monster? That it was not drawn to his evil. Or perhaps," the Priest turned, glaring at him for a moment, "he summoned it himself." Hushed whispers spread through the crowd.

"Now let us look at how he treated us. Complete disregard for myself, your leader. Now I don't hold a grudge..."

The Doctor interrupted him with an overly loud laugh, causing him to turn about. The Time Lord stifled it, holding up a hand in mock apology.

"But..." he continued through gritted teeth, "he disreguarded all of you! Treating you no better than bothersome children. Not only that... when he told you all to leave.. did you not feel compelled to do so? As though you had to? Like something was... forcing you?"

"I did!" called a man from the congregation.

"Perhaps he bewitched us all!" yelled another.

"If I bewitched you all, then why are you here? Wouldn't I just make you think I'm not a witch?" The Doctor suddenly countered loudly, brushing his nails on his coat, and looking at them, wholly uninterested in the spectacle at hand. He smirked as more whispers snaked through the crowd.

"The power of the Lord is too strong!" Barman shouted fervently, "stronger than any magic a servant of Satan can conjure." The Doctor smirked. When in doubt, make stuff up... if he wasn't such a bag of filth, The Doctor may have appreciated that move.

"But there is one final piece, one I believe proves this man's guilt over all others. I regret to present you all with this," Barman thrust the Sonic Screwdriver violently in the air. "His wand of power!"

The Doctor only shook his head. Wand... what an imbecile.

"You have all seen what he can do with this nefarious weapon; cause terrible noise that controls the mind , and even send the Demon back from whence it came. And the light that comes from it... it is hypnotic. Truth be told, I have experimented with this weapon, and when this Hell-light is on, I heard something." He let it hang for a few moments, walking back, and forth. Such dramatic effect... Shakespeare would have loved him.

"Voices called through that light. Dark voices. They were from the pits of Hell itself!" He shouted. Shocked gasps erupted from the room. Some of the men made the sign of the cross, while the wives hid their faces, and covered the ears of their children.

"They told me to do dark things, evil things; sacrifices to Satan, prayers to Mephistopheles, murder... all of it, and more. In return I would be gifted great power! But I... I know the truth of God's way... I have seen the face of the Lord, and I am unshakable! I believe this weapon is from Hell itself!"

A cold silence dropped upon the room, and Barman turned around, facing the podium, his head down.

"I attempted to destroy it, but I could not. Tell me, Doctor Smith, is this weapon a gift from your dark benefactor?"

"Of course not! "he replied with a shake of his head, "I built it, myself!" That was actually the truth, not that it would make a difference.

"And what is it's purpose? How many souls have you bedeviled with it?" Barman asked sinisterly.

"To build cabinets mostly," he shrugged.

"You jest... you think this is funny?" Barman roared. The Doctor pinched his index, and middle finger together, with a nearly unnseeable gap between them.

"A little actually,... yes."

"Tell me... confess... have you had dealings with Satan?"

The Doctor laughed, standing up. He put his hands on the surface, and leaned in toward Barman.

"Have I met Satan? Hmmmmm... that's a toughie. I've met so many people, that they all sort of blend together after awhile. Oh... you know... I think I have actually!" He exclaimed abruptly. He delighted as Barman stepped back. Some of the towns folk stared slack jawed. Others ran for the door, yelling curses.

"A few times! Not a nice fellow! Two fellows actually. I'm not sure which one was the actual article. One was a bit on the Egyptian side. I think he was a fake. I didn't like him, smelled like mothballs. Sarah, and I, aged him to death. The other one though... he was a bad one. Found him in a black hole."

"The black pit of Hell?" Barman questioned instantly.

"Black hole..." The Doctor said slowly, as though speaking to an idiot. He was so... "he looked the part; red, horns, possession, deep voice, smelled like sulfur, and strangely, spoiled peanut butter. Killed him too."

"You... you claim to have murdered the King of Hell..." the fear in Barman's eyes was legitimate, though is face was stony.

"I've done a lot of things," he continued, "you want to put me on trial? Fine, but lets be clear who your trying, shall we? My history is written across the universe. I've seen the birth of everything, and watched all of time sputter, and die. I've seen planets ripped apart, and worlds turned to dust. I have fought in wars you could never imagine the scope of, and your tiny brain would explode if I told you the number of lives I have ended, or caused to end. I've saved the entire universe from destruction more than you've changed your pants, and I've left a trail of tragedy, and death everywhere I've gone. That trail is littered with the innocent, and those I love. I have sacrificed things, that an idiot like you will never understand." He looked Barman dead in the eye. He felt as though he could see into his soul, and perhaps Barman saw into his.

"So, you want to think in your pathetic mind I'm a witch? Than fine, do that. But you should know, for your personal safety, I am no witch. I'm far worse than that. And believe me, men like you, are the ones who find that out exactly how bad I can be." Slowly he sat back down, with the gap mouthed Barman just standing there.

Slowly, his slack jawed expression formed a smile, one born in cruelty.

"And how, do you, a man so powerful," he mocked, "think you will fair against a Deity? My Deity?"

"My odds are decent I would say. It wouldn't be the first time, and I'm sure It won't be the last." He replied dismissively. He was not afraid. Neither of this man, nor his so called God.

"I believe then we have come to a verdict?" Barman asked turning around, facing his flock. The response was thunderous.

"Guilty. Guilty. Guilty." They chanted in unison. As though The Doctor thought it would be any different. Barman waved his hand, quieting them.

"But our God, though wrathful, is forgiving and good. All are capable of redemption, if he sees fit. Even one so evil as him," he pointed to The Time Lord. "I say we leave it to Him, to judge him as He sees fit. What say you? Are we to do what we believe is correct? Or shall we bring him before God for judgement?"

"Judgement, judgment judgement," they chanted. A cold chill of fear finally ran up The Doctor's spine, though not at the prospect of meeting a God or judgment, rather the barbarism of the humans before him.


	9. Garden of the Damned

The Doctor found himself shoved out the front doors of the town hall. The mob behind him was boiling with rage, more so than they had been when they brought him in. The Time Lord had not believed that possible, however, here he was.

One of the guards grabbed him roughly by the arm, half dragging him off towards the center of the square. Rocks, and other refuse pelted against him. He kept his face a mask of stoicism throughout however. This was partially out of spite; he was not keen on giving these savages the satisfaction of knowing they broke him. It was also partially out of embarrassment. Their treatment was degrading, and humiliating. He had actually been treated better by the Daleks.

That was the thing that disgusted him the most. In some ways, the Daleks had an excuse. They were programmed that way. Their brainwashing was absolute, and their battle armor contained memory blockers. Everything except hate was erased; it was literally all they could feel. In that, their cruelty was ingrained. They had no other choice, not really. They were built, born, and died evil.

Humans... they had a choice. They woke up every morning, and decided how good, or bad their day would be. They could decide whether to treat someone with kindness, or contempt. Worst of all, they had a conscience. They knew the difference between right, and wrong, and had a society that allowed them to choose. So when they did things like this, to strangers, or neighbors, it made them worse than Daleks.

Four men stood in the center of town, each of them holding axes. One had his foot planted upon a thick chunk of a tree, roughly cut somewhere near the middle, as far as he could tell.

Another drove nails into the log, securing manacles to it with a length of rusted chain. He shook his head with a snort. He had seen this before, in Salem. It was a common practice to those who punished witches. It looked as though they were playing right out of Salem's playbook, page by page.

He was shoved by the pair of men behind him.. One grabbed him roughly by the back of his neck, and forced him down. He dropped to his knees. He could have resisted, but it was redundant at this point. He would end up shouldering that wood whether he fought, or not. It wasn't important enough to fight. Besides, he needed to find Barman's so called God. This would lead him to it.

The towns folk stood around, and quieted as Barman approached. He walked passed The Doctor, standing before him as he knelt. He raised both arms, looking upon his people.

"You all know the trial of faith. This Witch, as all others before him, will carry the weight of his sins upon his back. Should he survive the trip, he will earn the right to be judged. Only then can he be redeemed in the eyes of the Lord." The Doctor smirked sardonically. This just got better, and better.

"Do you accept this punishment? There is only one other alternative..." Barman trailed.

"Sure, why not? I mean, we've come this far, why not go all the way," replied The Doctor.

"Perhaps there is hope for your soul yet..." Barman answered, "lash him to it!" He ordered.

The townsman did as they were told by their prophet. Two men grabbed the log, while another placed his foot in The Doctor's back, and shoved him into the damp dirt. He took a deep breath, waiting for the weight to come.

He did not wait long, as the townsman brought it to bare. They laid it across his shoulders, crushing him beneath it's weight. He felt himself sink into the dirt, as pain ran across his upper back. He involuntarily strained against it, trying to push himself up. He couldn't, not beneath such weight. He felt them secure his arms to it, first by chain, then by manacle.

Two men grabbed him, hauling him to his knees. The momentum with such weight on his back nearly sent him sprawling backwards, but the pair of villagers stopped him. He looked up at Barman, and sneered.

A wide grin was spread on his face, and he nodded approvingly. What sort of sociopath took joy in suffering like this? And of how many people? It was obvious this had been done many times. The villagers were compliant at the least, taking part at the most, but they were just afraid. They were whipped into a frenzy by a madman. They were, despite their part, forgivable. However, Barman... he wasn't. Not in the eyes of The Doctor.

"I did not think you would survive past this point. Not at your age," Barman commented, "but we will see. Stand!" The Doctor glanced to him, and snorted. Fine, he wanted him to stand, he would do so.

He planted one foot on the ground, and pushed with his knee. The tremendous weight atop him held him in place, but he still started to rise. His muscles shook, and he strained, getting his other foot underneath him. Slowly, he crept to a standing position, stumbling lightly farward, catching himself. Defiantly, he stared Barman in the face.

"Impressive... come." A man walked to Barman, handing him a crucifix, and an oil lantern. Obviously, these people knew the drill.

"It is now time for the two of us to venture fourth into the woods alone!" The Priest announced. "He shall face judgment this night. Pray for him, and that we will return together, and he is redeemed."

"There are a lot of things likely to happen in that swamp, Father, but us returning together is not one of them," hissed The Doctor. It was only met with a snide grin.

Barman began to walk, and The Doctor begrudgingly followed, slowly leaving the town, and the angry villagers behind. The dark forest stood ahead of them, his fate resting in it's creaking boughs.

* * *

One hour later, The Doctor still carried his burden. His muscles ached with strain, painfully screaming against the wood upon his back. Were he not a Time Lord, and more durable than a human, there was no doubt he would have collapsed by now. Sweat had long since soaked though his clothing, and he was splattered with mud and caked in dirt. He looked a mess, something he never enjoyed.

He had watched as the dark forest had slowly transformed into an even darker swamp. The marsh was feted; the water stinking of rot, and the trees nearly melting beneath the moss and tangled reeds. A thick mist lingered above the ankle deep water; one could barely see a few feet in front of them.

This place unnerved The Doctor. It was not the fog, or the stench, or the water; nor was it the constant drone of insects, or the snakes he felt slither past his shins. It was the feeling this place gave. A miasma surrounded it, permeated it. It was like a home a murder had been committed in; although the crime was over, the feeling it left behind remained, tainting it. It felt unnatural, and unnerving. Every feeling in The Doctor's hearts told him something was wrong here, and he believed them. It defied logic, and reason, but his instincts were rarely wrong.

He could see Barman up ahead of him, walking along as though out on a pleasant stroll. Never mind the man carrying the oak torture block, it was a grand old time. Disgusting.

He snorted at his own situation. He stopped to help, and his "thank you" was torture. What lovely people they had in this time period. He always got himself into trouble when he tried to do the right thing. He knew he should probably stop that but... well, he took his name for a reason after all.

He stepped down, his foot rolling on a slick stone. He stumbled beneath the weight on his back, electric pain shooting down his spinal cord, and across his shoulders. He shifted his weight, planting his feet. He halted his fall. He didn't want to give Barman the satisfaction of him falling. He felt mud fill his shoes. He always hated that feeling...

If anything, it just agitated him more. It was the smugness on the part of Barman that got to him. He was glaring back at him, thinking he had him helpless. The Doctor was many things, but helpless was never one of them.

"I'm going to get out of this, I hope you know that," The Doctor taunted. Probably not the best choice but... humanity's mouthiness was growing on him.

"God has ordained this, my Son. There is no escape from perdition," the reverend replied. If there was a God, The Doctor doubted He had anything to do with this.

"We'll see about that. I'll find a way. Then I'll find Sarah Jane," he returned.

"Allow me to guess," Barman interrupted sarcastically, "then you will seek your vengeance, and end my life?"

"Trust me, you won't be that lucky, trust me," he threatened.

Barman glanced back, once again wearing his cat-that-ate-the-canary smile.

"I used to be just like you, you know," Barman started.

"Highly doubtful," replied The Doctor.

"I was full of anger, and hate. I was justified in my sins. I was nothing but a criminal, a highwayman, if you can fathom it."

"I can. Your still a robber. Your just robbing people of their lives instead," The Doctor prodded.

"I found my Savior, however. The Angel that fell from the sky in flames. It spoke to me, telling me that it was sent here to cleanse humans of sin, and redeem the Earth," as Barman spoke, a creeping suspicion entered The Doctor's mind. Sarah Jane had found a second crashed ship. He would put his money on it, that the "God", was some kind of alien.

"At first I was afraid, as the form it took, is quite hellish. However, it told me it was tainted by the sin of the village, and once the sin was cleared, it would transform into the saintly being it is supposed to be. Whether it is merely an Angel, or a Seraphim, or perhaps even the Second Coming, I do not know, but I can sense it's Holy power. A soul as tainted as yours... if it devours your sin, it should be transformed." The Doctor shook his head.

That was why he was conducting these trials; whatever this being was, very likely an alien, like the Raston Warrior Robot, he was feeding it. He was a conman being conned by a larger con. He was one thing over all others however.

"Father... your an idiot."

* * *

The sun had begun to sink in the western sky, draping the cold swamp in pink light. The water almost glowed with cherry color, contrasting the darkness at it's heart. Nightfall... could be distressing, considering the circumstance.

The Doctor was exhausted. He had carried the the brick of wood all day, and he felt as though he was at the end of his rope. Every muscle in his body quivered with strain, and his arms felt like they were made of jello. He did not know how long he could last.

It turned out, he would not need to do so for very long. Before he, and Barman, a wide lake spread out in all directions. The gangrenous water was a brackish brown. The surface was coated in rotten vegetation, and the putrid stench that arose from it turned the stomach.

Up ahead, Barman stood upon the shore, turning around to wait. The Doctor laboriously walked to him. Maybe if he pushed the Priest in he would contract impetigo. How unsightly would that be? He shook that out of his head. He could be petty later.

"I am quite surprised that you made it so far. It is a testament to your infernal strength." He walked up as The Doctor approached, setting down his lantern, instead pulling a simple knife from his vestments. The Doctor tensed. Even if he did something violent, he could neither fight nor run with this weight on his back.

Much to his surprise however, he instead unhooked the manacles one by one with a key. The weight upon his back suddenly lifted, and the wood fell with a thunderous splash.

Relief flooded through his bones, as his muscles let go. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and humped over, taking deep, gasping breaths. His spine felt compressed, and ached, and he could barly lift his arms, which were now numb. The pain slowly set in now that the weight was off.

He was not worried however. His body healed faster than a normal human, or any other species. He just had to take time, something he didn't have enough of. He had been in worse situations, but this was no cakewalk. He only hoped the strain wouldn't force him to regenerate. He was really liking this body, as was Sarah Jane.

Knife in hand, Barman turned around, facing the lake.

"You have earned the right to be judged. Perhaps, like me, you too can be redeemed. Take solace however... your soul shall be redeemed of sin, either way. Whether in this world or the next."

The Doctor watched as the water shifted, and parted, a massive creature rising from the depths. It towered above the pair, water cascading from in in a dark fall.

It was dark green, and covered in scales like thick armor. It was long, and lithe, appearing as a gargantuan Earth snake. A long, thin fin ran down the length of its back, and it's exposed underbelly was colored in a copper tone. It's reptilian head was shaped like a diamond, with bright yellow patterning on the snout. It's serrated teeth, the length of a human hand, stuck from it's jaw, in a menacing overbite. Rows of boney horns stuck from it's nose, running up along it's eye sockets. Those reptilian eyes glowed a fiery red, peering into the souls of its victims. It opened it's wide jaw, exposing a pair of forked tongues, flanked by four, even longer, fangs. They dripped with an acidic, yellow-colored poison, causing small puffs of steam to raise from the water that the drops touched.

Despite it's intimidating appearance, The Doctor smiled. He knew exactly what this was; an alien, just as he had thought. From Srepensa too. That planet was causing him too much trouble lately. He wasn't worried however, not in the least. He could work with that. He could deal with that. That... he could fight.


	10. Exhale

The massive serpent towered above The Doctor, swaying back, and forth rhythmically. It's glowing eyes stared at the old Time Lord, it's unfailing gaze watching him hungrily. It's pair of forked tongues darted in, and out of it's mouth, almost expectantly.

"I have brought you another to be judged, my Lord. His sins are..." Barman began, dropping to his knees.

"Do not tell me of his sins, child. I shall be the judge of that," interrupted a dark, rumbling voice, coming from the snake. It's English was marred by hisses, though The Doctor had to give it credit, it spoke well for a killer snake.

"Yes, your Holiness," Barman replied, respectfully bowing his head. The Doctor thought for a moment about attempting an escape. Barman had a knife, but he wasn't paying attention. One swift kick, and all he had to worry about was the serpent.

Almost as soon as he thought of it, he shook it from his head. Although he recovered faster from fatigue, and injury, he hadn't rested enough yet. His arms still felt like they were weighed down by buckets of sand, and although they no longer shook, his legs ached with over-exertion. He couldn't make his break for it... not yet.

He knew he could get to the TARDIS if he ran. He wasn't that far away from it. Barman had taken a long, and winding route through the swamp. It was very likely meant to exhaust his victims. Really, he was only half an hour away from his ship. Faster if he ran. It had been even slower with the weight he was forced to carry. He had faith he could escape if he rested long enough. He hadn't yet. He was a Time Lord. He wouldn't need long.

Besides that, he truly wanted to find out what this was really about. Why had this creature caused so much chaos? Did It truly think Itself a divine figure? Or was there a deeper plot afoot? He hated plots, even more than pears. Especially when they caused as much death as this one so obviously had. Pears just made your chin drippy.

His deep blue eyes met the gaze of the creature before him. He wondered if any of the other humans brought before this monster had been brave enough to do so; he imagined they were probably too afraid. They were under the impression they were meeting God, or something close to it. Beyond that, giant snakes were not exactly the everyday for Earth folk. Most people, even those in the distant future, would be frightened by such monstrous things.

He was not. He had seen too much for that. There were things that frightened The Doctor; cruelty, genocide, needless pain, mindless destruction, the concept of nothing. Giant snake? That did not scare him.

"You have come before Me, to be judged. Do you seek redemption? Do you believe you are worthy of it?" The serpent asked, lowering itself to look at him more closely. He saw Barman rise to his feet, knife still clutched in his hands.

"Do I believe I am worthy of redemption?" repeated the Time Lord. He chuckled sardonically. "That's a loaded question. I've done a lot of irredeemable things."

"Unburden your mind, then, and allow Me to be the judge," it rumbled in return.

"The details are not important," replied The Doctor, "and besides that wasn't the original question. Let's stay on topic here. Am I worthy of redemption? I would like to think so."

"What makes you believe that?" It asked.

"I realize your a giant reptile, but it's impolite to interrupt people when they're monologing," came The Doctor's snarky reply, "I would like to think all the good I have done, outweighs the bad. I would like to think I've healed more wounds than I have caused, and that this universe is better with me in it. I hope I am worthy of it, or I have found it. I'm speaking of the real thing mind you, not whatever perversion your talking about." A low laugh greeted his response.

"You refer to Me as perverse? My, my you are a brave one... to insult the Divine. Your punishment will be severe," replied the beast.

"Ha," the Doctor laughed in an exaggerated tone, "no more severe than anyone else's I'm sure. I'm sure I'll end up like all the rest. You're going to eat me." Barman abruptly cocked his head, giving a surprised look.

"What's the matter, Godboy, that's what your doing, isn't it? Feeding people to it? Like an old lady feeding a stray cat, but instead it's a prehistoric size reptile... Someone should make a film about that."

"He devours their sin!" Barman shouted in defiance, "He is purifying the Earth after all this time, after the first sin!"

"It's having it's lunch served to it like a hotel! Five star accommodations, and all," The Doctor scoffed, "and in some part of your delusional, rotten soul, something is screaming that I'm right." Barman did not reply, looking on only in anger. It was in his eyes however, though The Doctor could not be sure he saw it. It almost looked like a moment of realization, as though he could see his cause was a lie. Perhaps that was only what The Doctor wanted to see. No one was surely that irredeemable... were they?

"As your Savior," roared the snake. The Scotsman had had enough of him.

"My Savior? Absolutely not! Is that what you think? You fancy yourself a God? Let me tell you something, your not dealing with some sheltered, smothered, hillbilly, Puritan hick from West Podunk Massachusetts," he interrupted, his hostility boiling over. The creature did not speak up but it's glowing eyes narrowed at him.

"I've seen more than my fair share of creatures like you. Some of them even had the same complex that you have. All of them; would-be Gods, could-be Gods, should have been, could have been, may have been Gods. Do you know what all of these people had in common? None of them were Gods. Not a single one. Not even almost."

"So fine," he continued, shaking his head with an eye roll, "you want to be a God? Play pretend? I don't care. You want to come on this planet, and eat people because it makes you feel like a big shot? That's a problem."

I don't know if anyone on your backwater planet ever told you, but the Earth? It has a guardian. He's called The Doctor, and he's tough. He's bad. He's nationwide. And he's Me." He smiled for the first time. His opponent remained unreadable, but he imagined there must be some little spark of fear in there somewhere.

"I know you think you have me at a disadvantage. No plan, no weapon; to me, that's not problem. I like being on my toes. As old as I am, it's good to keep my brain active. And make no mistake, I have every intention of stopping you, and what your doing. Time for you to get out of the buffet line Sir, the restaurant is closed." The creature lowered itself down, eyeing him more closely.

"I have heard of you, Doctor. Renegade, Guardian and Killer. I never believed I would actually meet you," it replied, grinding it's teeth together back, and forth aggressively.

"Surprise!" Shouted the Time Lord with a manic grin.

"You believe you will be my demise? I do not think so," the snake replied condescendingly.

"No one ever does," murmured the Time Lord.

"It has been a long time since I have dined upon Chronarch flesh. It is a delicacy I have missed." The Doctor felt Barman's hand clamp down on his shoulder. The knife blade grazed against his throat.

The second that thing's mouth came down onto him, he was going to regenerate inside it. He shrugged. He was going to miss this body. He hoped Sarah Jane would not be too sad.

* * *

Sarah Jane crept through the swamp, keeping low in the weeds. She did not know what to expect here, however Ria had made it abundantly clear to her that this place was dangerous.

Not only that, she was unsure if the villagers were still searching for her. If she was unsure, she had to assume they were. She had learned that from The Doctor. When the possibility existed that one was being hunted, one had to assume they were, lest they be caught unaware. That philosophy gifted to her, had saved her life more times than she wanted to admit.

She clutched the snake-shaped, silver rod in her one hand. It had an odd feeling to it; the handle was warm to the touch, though not hot. When she turned it to the correct direction, it warmed even further, and the silver snake began to thump, and thrum rhythmically, glowing deep vermilion. The other held the blowgun, the deadly dart inside the weapon.

She was beginning to have her suspicions about Ria, even more so than before. This item, it did not seem like magic, or witchcraft. Sarah Jane had a difficult time believing in such things anyway, but this seemed more like something sonic. It just did not make noise. However, sometimes her lipstick did not either.

If she did not know better, she would say that woman was a time traveler. It was the things she said, how she spoke of fate, and the future. She was attempting to sound like a mystic, but Sarah Jane wasn't buying it. Much of the time, if someone had knowledge of future events, it was because they had seen them already.

More than once, Sarah Jane had seen people manipulate the past, after seeing the future. In fact, she herself had done it quite recently. That was the problem with time travel, events crisscrossed each other. Things easily became tangled in a ball that could not be unraveled with ease.

This gave her some reservations. When she manipulated past events, it was for the betterment of others, or herself. If she could use the knowledge of the future to save someone's life, or keep them from harm, she would do so.

But, she understood that not all others were as benevolent as she was. Some did it to gain power, or favorable circumstance. They would use it to eliminate problems before they became such, some going so far as to establish a tyrannical rule, because they avoid the mistakes they already knew of. Time travel was a responsibility, which was why The Doctor chose his company so carefully. Absolute power could corrupt, easily, and absolutely.

She hoped Ria truly had good intentions. Sarah knew she would need to use her own judgment as far as this went. If she got the feeling that this was a deceiving ruse, she would change things up. She was not about to be a pawn in a manipulative game of chess. The only time traveler she truly knew she could trust, was The Doctor.

The echo of voices shook her from her thoughts. She immedeatly ducked lower, scurrying behind a nearby tree. The sallow vegetation provided her with cover, as did the mist, which was thinner here. Anything would help though, hiding was more about breaking the line of sight, than total obscurment.

She peeked through the thick weeds in the direction of the voice. She gasped at what she saw.

She recognized The Doctor from behind, his Victorian coat stained with dark mud. His posture was tired; his shoulders slumped and arms hanging. A giant log lay near him. She hoped he hadn't been forced to carry that... how horrible that must have been.

Barman stood next to him, holding something in his hand. She thought she may have seen day's failing light glint off of something metal. It looked like he was holding a knife.

This was not what most disturbed her. A massive creature towered above the pair. It looked almost like a snake, but it had strange horns, and a fin. It's eyes were what bothered her most. They glowed an evil red. It was demonic looking, and she saw no kindness, or mercy there. It was rare to find pure evil, but she had the feeling that it was slithering right there.

Beyond that, was a disgusting lake. She could smell it easily from here, and the rot laying upon the surface. Ria had told her of the lake. The woman had not lied... at least about that.

Come to think of it, she hadn't lied about the creature either. "The serpent that pretends it does not exist," Ria had called it. A serpent it was.

Sarah had seen many creatures in person. She had seen many more in the Tardis' files. That thing however, she had never seen. She wondered where it was from, and how it got here. Was this one of the hidden species of Earth? Like the Silurians? Or something else?

Then it hit her. The other ship. It was cylinder shaped, easily a fit for a snake. Not only that, Ria said Barman believed it was a God. If he had seen it crash, he would believe it came from heaven.

She could not hear what they were saying, but she saw that The Doctor was speaking a lot. His mannerisms were taunting, and scornful. She couldn't help but smile. She wondered what sort of insults he was tossing it's way. He had a gift for the gab, and he could both rend, and inspire with little effort. That snake didn't look happy, to be sure.

She took a deep breath. She couldn't just sit here. She had a job to do, and looking at the situation at hand, she intended to. She laid the snake rod in the soft muck, and took up the blowgun in both hands.

She had never used one before, but she hoped she would be successful. She had used alien weapons, and technology many times before, things light years ahead of this. If she could figure out Cyberman guns, and super computers, she could use a bamboo tube.

The only thing that worried her was the dart itself. She wondered how thick this creature's scales were. If they were too thick, it would not penetrate, and therefore it would be wasted. She could try to hit it in the mouth, or eye, but she doubted she would aim so well. If it were a gun perhaps; she was an excellent shot, despite her hatred of firearms. But with this weapon...

She eyed the snake, taking a breath. It was reared up as it spoke. It's underbelly would hopefully be soft. She had to try. She had no clue what it's plans for The Doctor were, but she had every intention of halting them.

She put the blowgun to her lips, the taste of the wood musky. She stretched her neck, and straightened her posture. She hoped it would give her an edge, and she emptied her lungs, keeping the breath out. She felt her heart beat slow as she calmed, and she steadied her hands. She pointed herself at the snake's torso. She hoped that the scales were thin, because she doubted her skills to aim with any precision. She took a breath and readied to blow.

Then she saw Barman grab The Doctor's shoulder. His knife went to the Time Lord's neck, not cutting him, but a flick of the wrist and...

She was not about to let her best friend die. Not now, not ever. She turned her head, carefully aiming, just as she had with the snake.

And then she exhaled harder than she ever had before.


	11. Failsafe

The Snake reared up, it's mouth opened wide. Toxic saliva drooled from it's maw, it's eyes hungry. Barman's hand stayed upon his shoulder, holding him in place. The Doctor could probably fight it, but he could think of no other way to defeat this beast. His muscles were energizing; he could probably run if he had to. But then what?

He would either get caught, or lead it somewhere else. Probably somewhere with other people. He couldn't do that, even to the town who had so doomed him. Two wrongs didn't make a right, even if three lefts did.

He could feel the energy tingling just beneath the surface of his skin. His body was readying for it; for regeneration. He never liked the feeling. Dying always hurt so much. People never took into account how much it hurt.

He looked the Snake in it's reptile eyes. He wanted it to know how brave he was until the end, to proove a point. He imagined how many had been a blubbering mess. How many had cowered, and begged. Defiance... he would make sure that it knew it's final meal, the meal that killed it, was defiant until the end.

Abruptly, Barman let out a low moan. The knife blade slipped away from his neck, trailing a thin cut along the surface of his skin. The Priest stumbled forward, falling to his knees. The Doctor grabbed him, stopping him from falling into the muck, the Priest turning toward him.

"What... have... you done?" He slurred, a white foam escaping his lips. To the Time Lord it was obvious; he had been poisoned. The Doctor knelt with him as the man fell, laying him down gently. As he did, his hand grazed the back of his neck, finding something sharp poking out. The Priest shuddered, convulsions overtaking him, before rasping a finial breath. He laid still.

"What have haven you done to him!" The Snake roared, it's glowing eyes alight with fiery rage.

"He hasn't done anything, it's time you left him alone!" Shouted a third, fierce voice behind him. The Doctor's hearts both soared, and sunk, at the same time.

Sarah Jane stood behind them, a tube of bamboo in one hand, a silver rod in the shape of a snake, in the other. Her kind eyes held a determination like no other, but her white-knuckle grip showed her true fear. He had always said however, bravery was not the absence of fear, rather doing the necessary despite it.

"You... that rod..." the monster hissed, "you are a disciple of The Witch. A servant of hers..."

"I am no ones servant," Sarah defended, "I am a companion of The Doctor, out of all things."

"Companionship is servitude by a different name," it chuckled disingenuously, "tell me, do you think you are the first she has sent to me in an attempt on my life? I have crushed their bones, and torn their flesh." As it spoke, The Doctor deftly slipped his hands into Barman's pocket, plucking his sonic screwdriver from it. He stood.

"You won't touch a hair on Sarah's head," The Doctor shouted up to it, "Hey! Look at me when I'm talking to you!" The Snake's dark eyes finally returned to The Doctor. "You can threaten me all you want. That's fine, I don't care. You can't threaten Sarah Jane. That I won't allow."

The Snake's expression changed to something between a grimace, and a smile, barring it's saw blade teeth. Whatever it had to say wasn't going to be pleasant. Looks like that, never belied good things.

"Ah... I see," it hissed slyly, "you care for the Human. Perhaps I should eat her first, in front of you."

"I would like to see you try," The Doctor threatened, stepping in front of his friend. Her hand fell on his shoulder, and he touched it with his, in a vain attempt at comforting her. He doubted it would do anything, but this was what it had always been between the two of them, standing side by side, looking catastrophe in the face.

"You tell me you seek redemption," the Snake continued, "than by default you must fear perdition. It is time to witness Hell, Doctor."

As it finished, it reared back up, opening it's mouth wide, exposing every jagged tooth. It's underbelly turned a sickly green-yellow, glowing like a lamp, rising up from the bottom to it's throat.

Immediately, The Doctor whipped around, grabbing his companion by the hand. He was still exhausted, but he ignored the burning in his legs, and started to run. Sarah followed with a surprised yelp, dropping the silver rod in the mud. The pair ran as fast as their legs could carry them.

With a furious roar, the Snake struck low, and bright green conflagration erupted from it's mouth. The fire carved a path through trees and plants, lighting everything aflame in a violent blaze.

The unbearable heat smothered Sarah and The Doctor, sucking the breath from their lungs as the flame licked their backs. The Time Lord dove aside, dragging Sarah with him. With a splash, the pair landed in a one of the many mires, just out of reach of the fire.

The Doctor found himself on his back, sinking into the mud with Sarah tangled atop him. Muddy water filled his nose and mouth as he gasped for air, pushing himself up from under the murk. Sarah too pushed herself up, slatting her now mud-caked hair out of her face. She blinked a few times, wiping the mud from her dark eyes, then smirking at their compromising position.

"Why Miss Smith, I didn't know you cared," he joked. She narrowed her eyes with a light smile.

"It would have been nice to know it could breathe fire, just saying," she replied, smacking him lightly on the forehead.

"I didn't know, " he shrugged. Whether that was true, or not was a conversation for another day. She rolled off of him, pushing herself to her feet but staying ducked. The Doctor did the same, glaring toward the Snake.

It's diamond shaped head swiveled back and fourth as it began to slither from the lake. It combed through the scorched devastation it's breath had left behind, smoke and remnants of fire leaping upwards. It hadn't noticed them yet.

"Come on, it's still looking for our bodies. We can get a head start," he whispered. She nodded briskly. The pair crept aside, just out of it's vision, then took off.

The pair ran as fast as they. tearing could, tearing through the swamp. They ducked and dodged through soaked limbs of trees, and bullied through rotten plants. He wanted to put as much distance between them, and that monster as they could.

Regardless of their deadline run, he wasn't just going in any direction. He was headed for the TARDIS. That was where they needed to go. He could figure out what to do once there.

"What's the plan?" Sarah yelled breathlessly, as if on cue.

"Get to the TARDIS, go from there," he returned honestly.

"Not much to go on!" She grumbled.

"Nice to see you too!" He replied with a sarcastic wink.

"Your the one who decided to stay behind," she argued, ducking around a thick tree.

"To save you! So you didn't end up here!" The Scotsman defended.

"Good job! That worked out so well!" She said, flashing him a thumbs-up.

"Look on the bright side! We're together!" He knew that was stretching it, but the pain racing through his overly exhausted body was distracting him.

"Great, we can get eaten at the same time," she rolled her eyes.

And with that word, something clicked in The Doctor's head. Eat... that was the answer. It's gluttony. That was how they could defeat it... use it's strength against it. Just like the Raston Warrior Robot.

"I know what to do!" He shouted triumphantly. "I know exactly what to do! It's so obvious!"

"A clue would be helpful!" Sarah replied frustratedly.

"It wants to eat? We're going to feed him something," he said darkly. He imagined how insane he sounded. However, genius, and insanity were two sides of the same coin. Sarah only gave him a look between bewilderment, and trust... something only she was capable of.

A cacophony like the world falling apart erupted from behind them. He managed a look backwards, and wished he hadn't.

The beast was behind them, slithering along the ground at an astounding speed. It's mouth was open, and belching green fire in a molten trail. In it's fury, it smashed trees out of it's path, and flattened vegetation.

He heard it suck in another deep breath, and he sped up as much as he could. Sarah Jane followed suit, and began rushing toward the East, while The Doctor took the West. The pair fanned out, taking the same direction back to the TARDIS, but separate sides. There were two of them and only one snake; it couldn't chase them both.

A blast of heat came at The Doctor's back, as a second stream of flame shot wide to his right. He stumbled, nearly falling, but he kept his balance, despite the slippery conditions. The swamp was starting to transition back into the forest. He couldn't mess up now. He was too close.

He turned around in time to see the creature rear up, and come down towards him, it's mouth wide open, and letting out a vicious screech of gleeful rage.

In a panic, The Doctor threw himself forward shoulder first, painfully smashing into an old, rotten tree before landing on the soggy ground. The Snake's mouth landed where he had just been standing, devouring a trench from the Earth, forcing it down it's gullet like a garbage disposal.

It looked up from it's missed attack, finding The Doctor in the muck before him. Quickly, the Time Lord jumped to his feet, as the Snake snapped at him, striking with violent speed. He spun aside, it's fangs missing his arm by inches. It followed this assault with another cone of neon flames.

The Doctor however, was already on the run, covering his head as cinders fell like snow above him. With a deafening crack, a large tree toppled from beside him, lit aflame by the careless Beast. He jumped yet again, sliding on his stomach, the tree crashing to the ground just inches from his legs, shaking the swamp with a terrible smash.

A hissing howl of agony came from behind him an he looked to it. There he saw the Serpent, the massive, rotted tree laying across it's back, mashing it into the dirt. It squirmed, and struggled beneath the weight, shaking it's trap, but not getting free. The Doctor knew what a stroke of luck that had been; how improbable that was to work out that way. He was going to take it. It would take a decent amount of time for it to escape. He could get a sizable lead.

Another burst of fire erupted from it's mouth, and The Doctor curled up on the ground, the fire ripping the air over him. Once it's breath had stopped, he ran. He ran for his life, another green burst scorching the ground behind him.

The swamp had all but disappeared; only dark forest remained. He ducked around, and under limbs of trees in his mad dash, every muscle in his body rebelling against him. Were he not a Time Lord, he would have fallen with exhaustion a long time ago. How Sarah did this, at this pace, with one heart... he would never know.

He tore past trees and bushes, heading even further toward the TARDIS. He hoped Sarah Jane would be there waiting for him. It was easy to get turned around in a forest like this. She was smart though... he doubted she would be so easily confused.

Ahead he could finally see it, the clearing that was the road. He pushed himself faster, feeling the thrill of a small victory as his feet touched the soil. He glanced up the path, finding his TARDIS sitting in the big clearing, the shining blue Police Box just where he left it. He rushed to it, hoping to see Sarah Jane. She had to be here. If she wasn't he would have to go and look for her, with the hope that the creature didn't find her first. If it did and anything happened to her...

The siren atop his ship turned on, blinking white, and he saw the door swing open. His hearts leapt, as Sarah Jane rushed out, a semi-bewildered look on her face. Her expression lifted a bit when she saw him.

"I started the TARDIS," she hollered, "in case we had to get out of here in a hurry!"

"That's my Sarah," he completed, "but we can't leave this thing here. It has killed enough for one lifetime."

"I agree," she concurred fiercely, "what are we going to do."

"Remember our failsafe for the Warrior Robot?" He asked. He moved to the bushes a few feet from the TARDIS, digging his hands beneath the underbrush. A crazed grin spread across his face, as his eyes fell on the oval shaped mine hidden in the bushes, right where he left it a day before.

He scooped it up, and ran to the road, thirty yards away from the TARDIS. He didn't need his ship getting caught in the crossfire. Nor his friend, for that matter.

"Sarah, stay back... I," he began. Instead she stepped up next to him, giving him that defiant look she was so excellent at.

"You really didn't think that was going to work did you?" She asked.

"No, I didn't," he shrugged. She was too brave for that.

They heard it coming before they saw it, a hissing scream tearing though the silent woods. It's path was evident; the trees shifting in it's forceful wake, and toxic smoke following it. The Doctor gripped his screwdriver all the tighter, his hands sweating with stress. He was not intent on being lit like a walking matchstick, or go down the gullet of that thing.

It's glowing eyes were what he first saw, slithering through the forest floor, then the whole of it, it's mouth open wide. Molten salvia burned path into the dirt as it came at them, ready for the kill.

"That village will burn because of you!" It screamed, another mouthful of fire scorching the dirt before them black. The Doctor dropped the mine on the ground at his feet, glancing at Sarah Jane. She nodded back, unsure.

"Get ready," he growled, eyeing the monster. He had to time it just right, as did Sarah Jane, lest the worst happen.

"Fine you want something to eat?" He yelled aggressively, "come on then, big boy! Come and get it!" He held both arms out wide, then pointed with his screwdriver, "I dare you."

It appeared to smile, barring it's teeth together, and rearing backwards before raising high above the pair. It's jaw opened wide, unhinging so to swallow them both. Good, he wanted it to take a nice, big, bite.

"Sarah! Jump now!" He yelled, and leapt to the side, just as it's mouth came down. Sarah Jane did the same, falling to the ground with a scream.

The monster bit down where they had stood only a minute ago, taking a massive chunk of earth with it. As with the first, it forced it down it's throat, swallowing it whole. It turned to The Doctor, mouth still open, and struck toward him.

Just before it reached him, it stopped, it's mouth clamping shut. A confused look passed through it's eyes, and it looked down at it's stomach.

"What..." it hissed. Suddenly, more light erupted from within it, though this was a darker green than the light of it's fire. It let out a sickly scream, dark steam escaping it's lips. With a bright flash from it's stomach, it writhed back, and forth, then flopped over in a thunderous crash, only inches from The Doctor.

Cautiously, The Time Lord stood, eyeing the Snake suspiciously. He picked up his dropped screwdriver, and poked it's snout with the tip. It stayed still, it's eyes lulled open, smoke escaping through it's teeth.

Sarah Jane stumbled around it's body, standing by The Doctor's side. She pushed her muddy hair from her face, and looked at the dead alien before them.

"Are you alright?" she asked breathlessly. He nodded.

"You?"

"Destroying a tyrannical alien intent on cannibalism, and ruining a perfectly good outfit while doing so? I would say yes," she replied.

"It's not cannibalism Sarah, he's eating humans, not his own kind."

"Don't nit pick," she scolded, "what happened to it anyway? It was a teleportation mine, those don't kill."

"It was too big and it ate the mine. It teleported something. It's innards," he answered with a scowl of disgust. That was so unsightly. He hated to be the one to come upon snake organs randomly floating through outer space.

"That's awful," Sarah commented, covering her mouth. The Doctor shrugged. He had a difficult time feeling bad for a serial killer of the innocent. More over he was happy both of them had survived. It had been tight through there...

"I'm glad your okay, Sarah. I was afraid for you," he admitted.

"I'm happy you are too," she nodded with a grin.

"How did you find me? And where did you get that dart gun?" He asked. He hadn't had the chance to find out until now.

"Well... I was running through the forest, from the villagers, and a woman saved me. She gave me those things... and a rod that led me to the Snake..." she replied. That was curious...

"What did she look like?" he asked her. He had many allies throughout the universe, many Sarah had not met. It could have been River, or maybe Romana...

"She had red hair. She looked young, but talked old... like you. And a tattoo of a snake..."

"Eating itself?!" he yelled. She nodded. "Get in the TARDIS. I need to see her now!" he shouted excitedly. He knew who that was. There was no doubt.

* * *

The TARDIS landed, it's grinding warp ending with a 'thunk.' The Doctor rushed out the doors eagerly. That woman... he knew her. He had known her for a very long time.

He looked around, and both of his hearts sunk into his stomach.

Sarah had described an old shack to him; rickety and forlorn, but home to the woman he was searching for.

It was nowhere to be seen. The plot she had described was empty, void of any witch's dwelling. It looked as though no one had traveled here at all in years; as lonely as any other place in this swamp.

At first, he thought she had made a mistake in her navigation. But he noted the indent in the grass, where it was flattened in a rectangular shape. The shack had been here. It was gone now.

"Where is it?" Sarah asked rhetorically, stepping from within the ship. "It was here! I know it was. I... how can that be?"

"Your right, Sarah it was, but as you know from personal experience, unlike normal homes, TARDIS' move all the time."

"TARDIS... you mean..." Sarah stammered. The Doctor nodded.

"I think you just encountered an old friend of mine, a Time Lord called the Corsair. She was a good one. A really good one. Sometimes a he, actually. Always got that stupid snake tattoo on her arm. I wish I had know she was here... I could have warned her." A sadness settled in him. He may have prevented her death... final death.

"Time war?" Sarah asked solemnly.

"No... something fed on her and used her body for spare parts," he replied bitterly. " She survived the Time War just to be murdered by an idiot with a God Complex. It's ironic..." he shook his head. So close to saving someone... yet so far.

"Well, you may not be able to save her, but I can think of a certain Puritan in need of a jail break." She had that mischievous look on her face.

"Oh yes, I do love a good jailbreak ."

* * *

The riot outside had calmed long ago, and darkness had fallen, drowning the basement in pitch. David did not know how long he would be down here, nor how long he had already been.

The waiting...that was the hard part. He did not fear death. He had faith that, despite Barman's claims, he would meet his Creator, and be welcomed into Heaven. He would see his wife again, his Magdalena.

He suspected The Doctor, and Sarah were dead by now, long dead. Butchered like the rest. He was surly next. He felt terrible. They had only stopped to help. They did not deserve such a fate.

His thoughts were altered by a terrible sound, a defining, grinding sound that annihilated the silence. A form blinked in, and out, appearing like magic from the thin air.

With a final clunk, sat the blue box he knew to be The Doctor's. And from the creaking door, stepped Sarah Jane. She held out one hand, beckoning toward him.

"You say you are tired of living in a time where people are judgmental? People are judgmental everywhere, but The Doctor knows a woman who takes in the downtrodden, and the beleaguered, the lost, and the found. Take my hand, and we will take you to her. To live the life you deserve."

David did not hesitate. He did not think. He did not have to.

He placed his hand in hers.

* * *

Kate Stewart walked briskly down the hall of Unit Headquarters, London, England. Her short blond hair was tied neatly today; she was in no mood to fuss, and her eyes were narrowed in thought.

As she entered the command center, every soldier and technician stood and saluted. Every face was stressed, and worried. Every eye was on her.

Her main, right hand woman was the first to drop her salute. She was small, and mousy, with tired back brown hair, and thick coke-bottle glasses. Her sweater vest was disheveled; probably due to distracted pacing, and lack of attention. Osgood was more nervous than usual. It was warranted, the situation was most serious. Deadly serious.

"What happened?" Kate demanded.

"We had a break in at the Black Archive, Ma'am," Osgood replied.

"Him? Again?"

"That's the problem, no," Osgood replied, "here, we have footage."

"Play it," Kate ordered.

Every eye went to the big screen in the room's center. Osgood tapped on the screen of her pad, and an image appeared. It was of the hall leading to the black archive. A man walked down it at a quick pace. He was older, his short, grey hair tucked beneath a top hat. His Victorian Era garb was out of place in the modern era, and too accurate to be just a recreation. His countenance was stern, and cold, with a hawk nose, and eyes cooler than the winter.

He walked with purpose, as though he belonged. They watched him stop, and look backwards, like someone called to him. A second man appeared, this one in the black Unit Uniform.

The Victorian man only held out one hand, his palm up. An electric blue beam shot from it, blasting the man backwards, off screen. With his grim work done, he aimed his hand at the camera with a smirk. Everything went dark.

"That is the last we have of him. He left a trail of bodies behind him Ma'am" Osgood stated grimly, "fifty two soldiers all, one dog, and every camera."

"Good Lord...What did he take?" Kate asked, hesitantly. Some of the worst weapons of the past, and future were in that vault.

"The Vortex Manipulator donated by Harkness." Kate's blood went cold. No...

"He left this," Osgood continued. She handed her a small card.

Upon it was a large green letter G, with the words "The Great Intelligence Institute."

"What do we do?" Osgood asked.

"Do not tell The Doctor about the manipulator. He doesn't know we have it, and if he finds out we lost it, there will be hell to pay." Kate answered.

"Are you sure? He may..." she started.

"No, but we will send someone to him as a guard. If this is time related, The Doctor will encounter it, and our interests need to be protected."

"Who?"

"First, I need you to retrieve the manipulator taken from Dr. Song. It is in my office behind the portrait of Lethbridge. Then get Torchwood on the phone."

"Ma'am?"

"We need someone who has travelled in time before. We need Jack Harkness."

( _Author's Note: and thusly, Mock Trial comes to a close. This fic was fun to write. Not my favorite but very enjoyable all the same. I hope all of you enjoyed it as well. A few thankyous are in order; feline38 for always being here to help out and bounce ideas off of, MirricatBlackwood for her constant help and support, BurgundyHope for her kindness and generalized awesomeness, BannerFanner for her undying friendship, and redstarsarc for constantly making me smile with her reviews that fill my inbox. And to all the rest of you out there for reading. I am nothing without you. I hope you stay on for the bumpy ride, and for the return of everyone's favorite Time Agent, Torchwood Leader and silvertounged rogue, Jack Harkness. I'll see you all in Killcrest Manor; I promise, it will dedefinitely be a night (and story) to remember. Good night outlaw gents and shady ladies.)_


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